


Pressure Point

by z0mbieshake



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Depression, Electric Torture, Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Interrogation, M/M, Sadism, Torture, Waterboarding, a LOT of Felix abuse, felix abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1373614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/pseuds/z0mbieshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a weakness, a pressure point. Peter Pan is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize ahead of time because this is just me indulging my sadistic side and really liking how it turned out. Enjoy!

His body rippled with pain, electricity tearing through his body as he thrashed violently against the metal bonds restraining his wrists and ankles to the chair. Peter's voice was already hoarse and his lungs burned with exhausted from screaming but he couldn't contain himself. The blood on his brow wasn't inflicted upon him by The Coordinator. In his uncontrollable thrashes, Peter had thrown his head into a bolt on the back of his chair and punctured his brow. However, that numbing sensation in his skull and dull ache was nothing compared to the wildfire that was consuming his flesh.

Peter never expected the deafening screech of harsh metal to be a relieving sound. The electricity always shut off right after leaving Peter's body blistering hot and limp in his metal throne. He hung his head, fighting to take in breaths of air as he watched his sweat sizzle off his body. With the amount of flesh he had scraped off from his wrists and ankles, Peter was surprised he hadn't bled out yet.

Even with his body wrecked, Peter's soul refused to be crushed. As soon as he caught his breath and weathered through the worst of the pain, Peter lifted his head and glared into the darkness, "Do whatever you want! I'll never give up Neverland!" He growled to at The Coordinator hidden in the shadows. He let out a dry laugh as the clinically dressed man stepped into view, materializing from the shadows.

"Make it easy on yourself," The Coordinator said in a disturbingly sweet monotone, "Or we can just wait till the hourglass runs out."

Peter scoffed, spitting out blood at The Coordinator's feet, sullying his pristine white jacket, "Then settle in because we'll be here for the next few decades," He forced himself to sit up, make himself taller, despite the pain that lanced through his spine. Peter wasn't sure exactly how much longer his hourglass had but he was willing to bet that the Coordinator had no idea either.

"I'm Neverland's king," Peter hissed, glaring up at the coordinator who continued to stare at him with steely eyes hidden behind metal frames, "I will-"

A loud metal, scrape cut him off followed by an agonizing scream. The Coordinator did nothing as he observed Peter's convulsing form, did not even flinch as the sharp smell of cooking flesh wafted across his face. In those calculating eyes, the Coordinator could only observe that Peter could withstand conditions that would've killed any normal man in moments.

The second metal scrape came, Peter twisted around in the chair and coughed out another mouth of blood from biting through his tongue. With his body twisted away from The Coordinator's eyes, Peter slowly evened his breathing and forced himself through the pain. When he looked back, the strength in his eyes returned and he glared down that despicable man with all of his hate.

"I'll kill you when I get out," Peter growled, voice low and deceptively condescending, "I'll do it slowly, rip out your shadow bit by bit."

What happened next made Peter shudder in fear: The Coordinator looked upon him and _smiled_. Peter couldn't meet the man's eyes and found himself looking past his shoulder and into the darkness. He let out a small gasp of surprise as a light switched on from behind The Coordinator. His eyes immediately darted back to the man, knowing that his frightful gasp at such a mundane event gave him pleasure.

Peter watched as two men entered wheeling in crates of miscellaneous equipment. Avoiding eye contact with both subjects of the interrogation, the two men swiftly constructed a second metal throne, finishing it off by snapping a cord into the electrical socket located at the bottom.

Peter pried his eyes away from the second throne, meeting The Coordinator's eyes once more. The unnerving smile had not left the man's face the entire time. Peter begged in his mind for the disgusting man to step back, any closer and he knew he'd throw up.

At long last, the man stepped to the side, not far enough for Peter to be comfortable but enough for him to have his breathing space, "Bring in subject 7."

 _Who's subject 7?_ Peter asked in his mind as he searched the darkness. He heard a gate open somewhere to his right across from The Coordinator, heard the sound of scuffling feet before he saw two orderlies dragging in a lanky form with a head of wild golden hair. _No, no, no, no. no!_

Peter fought off the dread that settled in his stomach, the heavy feeling in his heart as Felix, gagged and bound was seated into the chair in front of him. His eyes locked with Peter's for only a second before tearing away, struggling hopelessly as his wrists and ankles were bound to the chair. Pathetic whines came from behind his gag as he shook his head frantically. _Not again_. His gestures spoke.

The two orderlies did the same as the two handymen. As soon as Felix was secured and un-gagged, they left without even acknowledging The Coordinator or Peter. Even without the gag, Felix hadn't said a word instead whimpering with every shift of his body. Like an animal caught in a trap, he couldn't stop himself from struggling in his bounds, all of his fear apparent unlike Peter who refused to look weak.

Peter knew Felix, knew how strong he was under pressure. He'd seen the tall boy tortured by pirates who wanted revenge on Pan and still smile on even after his face was sliced open by a cutlass. To see Felix like this, broken and fearful like a child, was _heartbreaking_. And Peter knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to comfort him without The Coordinator using it against him.

"The other boys call for mommy and daddy at night," The Coordinator said, kneeling beside Felix so he could remain level with his slouched body, "But he doesn't. He calls for Peter Pan when we hurt him. None of the others boys do. He must be special, right?"

Felix flinched as he felt The Coordinator's cold, calloused hand against his cheekbone. His trembling had become so violent that all of his bounds were rattling wildly. Peter fought the urge to lunge from his restraints, trying to hide that shiver of rage as The Coordinator closed in on Felix.

"What is he to you, Peter Pan?" The Coordinator asked, face nearly pressed against the side of Felix's head as he spoke.

Peter swallowed hard, shutting his eyes tightly for just a second before reclining in his seat with an arrogant look, disguising his true feelings perfectly, "I use him for pleasure. He's quite good at it. Other than that, he's _nothing_ to me. Just like the rest of the boys," His eyes flickered over to Felix on their own despite trying his best to maintain eye contact with The Coordinator. He nearly broke his facade when Felix crushed his eyes close and let out a despairing sob. Peter knew his eyes flickered with regret for just a moment. He could only hope that The Coordinator hadn't caught it, "Do whatever with that brat...!"

It was too late to stop himself from lunging forward as The Coordinate secured Felix's head with a grasp of hair and dragged his tongue across his cheek and up his temple. What set Peter off was not the action but the terrified whine that slipped from Felix's lips. He rattled his bonds helplessly, whimpering pathetically as The Coordinator refused to pull away, pressing his face into his messy blonde hair and breathing all the dirt, blood, and fear caked into his locks. The hand in his hair loosened its grip, petting the side of his face intimately as a kiss was pressed on the top of his head. Felix burst into tears at the gesture, twisting his head away whenever he could only for those filthy hands and lips to follow him. Throughout his entire torment, The Coordinator's eyes were locked onto Peter, watching each and every little twitch as he violated Felix.

The Coordinator could see his fear, see his rage, see that Felix meant so much more to him. Peter had to cover it up but he feared that he was too late. Collecting himself once more, Peter straightened up in his seat as he assumed his proud facade once more, "I don't like people touching my things," He said as coldly as he could.

When the Coordinator turned his back on both of them, Peter's expression immediately softened as he mouthed Felix's name, trying to get this attention. Slumped to the side and sobbing quietly, Felix continued to stare at the floor till his gaze eventually drifted to Peter. He was pleading with guttural sounds, whimpering pathetically when Peter continued to call his name silently.

Felix flinched before Peter even saw The Coordinator returning, materializing from the darkness once more with a set of wires in his hands, the same ones attached to Peter at the moment. Nonchalantly, The Coordinator attached them to Felix: Nodes on either side of his head, a clip on his index fingers, a spark as he plugged them into the socket behind the seat.

Felix's eyes pleaded with Peter, begged him to make it all stop. Peter had to tear his eyes away or else he'd beg for Felix's life and doom him to torture, "R-Really going to do this, aren't you?" Peter asked, forcing a half smile onto his face, "It won't change a thing. I won't give you Neverland. You're just wasting your time!" He was rambling now but he knew if he stopped, he'd start begging. Peter cringed as The Coordinator took a handful of Felix's hair and jerked him up, forcing his back straight and against the metal backing of the chair, "You're not doing this for me. You're doing this because you like it, you sick bastard. Do you feel proud of yourself? How many children have you-"

A loud metal clang cut him off once more. Peter flinched but no pain came. He was dead silent as a scream erupted from Felix's mouth, his body seizing madly as his bonds just barely restrained him, looking like they'd snap under his uncontrollable struggling. Peter couldn't even breathe as he watched Felix convulse and sizzle, his movements barely looking human. Peter's eyes shot into the darkness, trying to do anything but look at Felix.

"PETER!" Felix finally screamed out, voice cracking under the strain, spittle shooting out of his mouth as his teeth gnashed away a piece of his tongue.

A loud metal clang came and Felix slumped into his seat, twitching with glassy eyes and a chewed-through lip. His breath was frantic, chest heaving erratically as he sobbed hysterically. Peter felt his heart shatter as Felix burst into tears, crying without restraint. His most loyal Lost Boy, the only one who could look a chimera in the eye without a single lick of fear, could have his right eye nearly scraped out with a rusty cutlass without even flinching, _crying for his life_.

" _Peter..._ " Felix whimpered out, the name coming out shaky as his body continued to tremble with aftershocks, "Help me. _Peter,_ " His hands were clenching at the air, trying to reach for him.

Peter tore away, glaring into the darkness as Felix continued to plead, "W-Won't change... anything," Peter forced himself to say.

A loud metal clang. A scream that made Peter's heart wrench with agonizing pain.

Felix had already wore his wrists and ankles raw from struggling, thick blood oozing down the metal chair in thin streaks before evaporating away like water sizzling in a pan. Peter knew it was wrong to look away, knew Felix needed him now more than ever, but he couldn't help it. The sound of Peter's name on Felix's voice made it all the worse.

A loud metal clang and silence followed. Felix slumped into the seat again, a whine in his throat with every breath he took. He had no more tears left and was reduced to sobbing dryly as he hung his head against the corner of the chair.

"Why are you doing this?" Felix pleaded into the shadows between sobs, "What do you want from me?"

"He doesn't want anything from you," Peter called out to Felix for the first time. Felix slowly turned his head, looking over to Peter who sat before him with downcast eyes and a defeated look, "He wants Neverland."

"Nev...Neverland," Felix panted out, shutting his eyes as a sudden dizzy spell hit him. When he opened his eyes again, Peter swore he saw them flicker with strength for just a moment, "Won't... won't get it from m... me," In the short moment Peter spoke to Felix, his thoughts became lucid once more. Briefly, he smiled but Peter had no time to confirm as the dreaded metal clang came down once.

The struggling was worst this time, desperate to free himself and end his pain. Felix's screams were dying down, lungs exhausting just as Peter's had when he was subjected to this torture. Something was different though and Peter picked it up immediately: Felix hadn't screamed Peter's name _once_.

"Oh Felix..." Peter whispered, realizing what the Lost Boy was trying to do.

Felix couldn't feel his bones anymore, his flesh felt like white-hot candle wax that he couldn't peel off, blood was pooled in his mouth from biting off chunks of his tongue, cheeks and lips. _But he no longer screamed for Peter._ He cursed left and right, screamed for everything and nothing, but he wouldn't beg for Peter's help, refused to make his beloved leader carry his burden. That willpower Peter so loved in _his_ lost boy still bled through that dilapidated body.

Peter knew the Coordinator picked that up, knew how fiercely loyal Felix was. He'd never electrocuted either of them for more than thirty seconds at a time. He'd been holding the switch down for three minutes now and the telltale scratch of metal before the clang of the switch had not come.

When Peter finally gathered the courage to tear away from the darkness and look at Felix, he immediately felt every barricade in his heart crumble. The sour scent of burning flesh and hair was now prevalent in the air. Felix's eyes had snapped open during his convulsions and his blown-wide pupils betrayed all of his suffering. He knew Felix must've dislocated his arm from struggling as it was twisting and twitching in an unnatural direction as the electricity coursed through his body and wrecked it from the inside out.

Peter took a deep breath, eyes wide, fearful, and filled with tears, and screamed, "Stop it! STOP IT!"

To his surprise, The Coordinator flipped the switch at his command. Even without the electricity, Felix's body still convulsed madly, his whole body twitching and flinching at the slightest movement. His dislocated arm only looked worse when his entire body wasn't moving; the unnatural angles standing out even more against his slouching body.

" _Felix_ ," Peter called out, leaning forward in his chair. Felix wasn't concentrating on him, jaw clenched tight and eyes glued to the floor, "Felix, concentrate on me. Forget everything else. Just concentrate on me," To hell with The Coordinator, Felix needed him right now, "I'm right here. I'll get you out. Don't be afraid."

He was cut off when Felix screamed. The Coordinator somehow appeared behind Felix, hand dipping down to caress the scar on his right cheek before piercing it with a sharp fingernail. Peter growled at the disgusting man, rattling his bonds as he tried to lunge forward.

"Touch him again and I'll kill you!" Peter hissed.

Calling out his bluff, The Coordinator turned Felix's head to face him and planted a harsh kiss on his lips, nearly gagging him with his tongue. Felix let out a disgusted groan as he wrenched his head away, spitting weakly and slumping to the side when The Coordinator let him go.

" _Fuck you_ ," Peter said in a low growl.

The Coordinator said nothing, returning to the shadows before flipping the switch once more, eyes shining as Felix screamed and Peter did nothing else but watch on helplessly.

 

Even in his cell, Peter could still hear Felix's cries, could still _smell_ his flesh cooking, could see him sobbing in fear, _all because of him_. Peter pushed himself into the corner, hidden behind his bed and squeezed just beneath his sink and toilet. He hugged onto his knees and buried his face into his arms, trying his hardest to push away all those horrific images of his most beloved lost boy. Every time he thought his mind was clear, he'd hear the metal scraping of a hinge, a sobbing voice from the outside, the smell of the meat loaf in his lunch, and everything would come back to him. He'd see Felix and he'd _hurt_ so badly.

Peter was jarred out of his thoughts as his cell door swung open. His head shot up immediately, staring at the guard with thinly-veiled fear. He forced himself to glare, bared his teeth at the few guards, trying his best to look at least a bit threatening.

"You have a new cellmate," The guard announced.

The cell was cramped already and there certainly wasn't enough room for another bed. Peter was fully prepared for whatever psychopath they planned on locking him in with, probably to soften his mind before they pulled him in for torture again.

Peter blanched as they walked Felix in, dressed in nothing but a hospital gown with a glassy look in his eyes. He whimpered with each step in, his bare feet bruising against the harsh concrete floor. Before he even made it past the door, the guards shoved him in unceremoniously, watching in awe as Peter leapt forward and caught his lanky form.

A pained cry burst from Felix's lips as his sensitive flesh collided with Peter's body. The gentle warmth coming from Peter's body and tender touch he hadn't felt in ages stopped him from struggling and soothed away the aches. He felt Peter lower them both into the floor, securing him close with his arms.

"Get out," Peter growled, clutching at Felix while the guards continued to stare at them like they were the main attraction, "Get. Out. Now. Or I'll skin you alive."

They remained where they stood, eyes roaming over Felix's form. Peter realized that his threat had the opposite effect, provoking them into _staying_ just to defy him. Swallowing his pride, Peter looked to the ground submissively, bowing his head in compliance. At the show of his powerlessness, the guards left the cell, shutting the door behind them.

" _Goddamn_ ," Peter whispered as he slowly rolled Felix over. The last he had seen him, Felix was laying in the chair eyes wide and unresponsive as steam drifted off his body. Peter thought he had died till the sound of the lock startled him awake. The orderlies took Peter away to be patched up as they always did after his torture sessions. Felix was left behind with The Coordinator.

Unable to sit so close to the door, Peter dragged both of them back into his corner, tucking Felix into his arms as his catatonia began to fade. Almost immediately, Felix began to sob, burying his face into Peter's chest as he whimpered loudly. Peter at least had the magic lingering inside him to protect his mind and body. Felix had absolutely nothing and took all of it full force. Peter knew if he was in Felix's position, he would've been dead right from the start.

Peter stroked his messy hair gently, whispering into his ear, "You did good," Peter said, clutching him tighter when Felix's body began to tremble, "You did good," He repeated, tilting Felix's head to examine the damage.

Light had returned to Felix's eyes, just a dim, flickering flame but Peter could see lucidity in him. The puncture The Coordinator had made in Felix's scar was covered up with a bandage. It was a shoddy job judging from the blood still seeping through. His dislocated arm was popped back in and set but he was not given a cast to hold it in place. Similarly, his body was treated for electric burns with only the barest of treatments, a simple ointment and bandage. The medical facilities always went all out with Peter, the best of treatments no matter how pricey or time consuming. He remembered them putting him under to treat some of his worst burns. But with Felix's treatment, their priorities were clear.

" _Peter_ ," Felix's hoarse voice shook him out from his thoughts.

Peter immediately shushed him, petting his head to calm him down, "Save your energy."

Felix shook his head, barely noticeable over the intense tremors that shook him, "The other boys, Curly, Devin, they're all still here. He's hurting them. _God_... he's hurting them too."

A part of Peter felt guilty when the first thought that came to his head was " _Who the hell is Devin?_ " but that moment passed when he remembered how dedicated Felix was to leading the crew. While Peter Pan only wanted them for amusement, Felix saw them as family and elected himself to lead them under Pan's rule.

" _It's alright_ ," Peter whispered back, hugging Felix close. With a small grunt, Felix endured the fit in his muscles, throbbing and pulsating like they were trying to tear themselves off his bones, "Those boys don't mean a thing to me. That's why they'll be spared." _Unlike you_. He pressed his lips to Felix's temple, kissing away the dull ache caused by the nodes, "We'll get out of here."

" _Promise me,_ " Felix choked out, shaking as he pawed at Peter's chest, drawing his eyes to lock onto his own.

"I-..."

"Promise me _you won't give up Neverland_ ,"

Peter wanted to believe that there was no way Felix knew what he was implying with those words. Everyone always told Felix that his absolute devotion to Pan would be his downfall. Peter never once thought that was a bad thing until now.

Peter cupped Felix's face with his hands, staring into his eyes with absolute conviction, "I will get us out of here. All of us. I promise."

Doubt, resignation, fear, all of that was reflected into Felix's eyes. Still, his most loyal lost boy nodded back in agreement and tucked his head under Peter's chin. The shivers died down and his breathing evened out when he slept, momentarily forgetting the agony of his flesh.

Peter couldn't sleep, however, not while Felix was in his arms. He couldn't waste any time with rest. Pooling together all of his resources, Peter began the formulation of his escape plan. _Number one: Magic is sealed within the perimeter_. Although he could feel a bit of magic in his veins, he was still young after all, the majority of it was sealed away. He couldn't even conjure a feather if he wanted to.

However, if he were given time to concentrate, Peter could make contact with his Shadow. _Second point: I still control Neverland's Shadow._ He couldn't risk a full frontal assault with his shadow against this facility. Firstly, he had no idea where they were. Secondly, if his Shadow were caught, it would all be over. He couldn't risk that unless it was a last resort.

 _Number three: I need allies_. But what allies did Peter Pan have? The lost boys that remained on the island were the ones he trusted least, the ones he couldn't risk bringing into Storybrooke to collect Henry because they would have likely tried to escape. Even if they weren't, a couple boys armed with spears and arrows stood no chance against the modern forces even with their weapons dipped in dreamshade.

Although Tinkerbell would be reluctant to save him, their old friendship grown sour in the last few years, she had no magic and no allies of her own. She could try to contact the fairies for help but given her reputation and _especially_ his own reputation, they'd be reluctant to help.

Hook? Long ago they had a partnership built off of disdain and necessity. He knew Hook had a soft spot for the lost boys, especially Felix. Hook was the first person to tell Felix that his loyalty would be his downfall. He cared enough to tell him, cared enough to take the fall for Rufio's murder when it was Peter Pan who killed him out of jealousy. He didn't want Felix's shining pedestal of Pan to be shattered. But what did Hook have now other than his pride and ship? Peter was starting to regret the torturous games he had played on his crew, whittling down their numbers till only two remained. If he had been kinder, he may have had a crew of pirates on hand.

"Think, think, think," Peter whispered to himself, clutching into Felix harder as he strained to put together a plan. He needed an ally who was powerful, someone with resources, maybe even an army. But who...?

 _...Rumpel_. The dark one. The greatest force of magic in the Enchanted Forest. He had no official allies per say but he was surrounded by do-gooders who'd rise to the occasion should Rumpel be pressed to. Peter growled at the thought of asking his son for help. After years of trying to forget his son, spiting him for everything that had happened, he almost couldn't accept this as a possibility. His pride wanted to stop him but Felix's life meant far more.

Shutting his eyes, filtering out everything but the darkness and the pitter-patter of Felix's heartbeat, Peter contacted his Shadow from across the realms, " _Find Rumpel._ "

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reluctant to work on this previously since I just couldn't get the characterization down for Emma or Rumpel which would probably make the whole rescue operation really stale to read.
> 
> So, I cheated a bit. Instead of introducing other characters, the fic will only concentrate on Peter and Felix's ordeal plus flashbacks of their past in between. I hope that's alright with everyone and I apologize to anyone who wanted to see more characters included in the story as the previous chapter hinted.

_The first time Felix stepped foot on the island, he was just like the rest of the lost boys. He blended perfectly into the loud, rambunctious crowd save for how he towered over everyone, standing a whole head taller than most boys. It was only at night did Felix truly stand out. While the rest of the boys wept in their beds and begged Peter to bring them home, Felix remained silent. He'd find a niche for himself to rest in, shut his eyes, and descend into peaceful sleep like he was in the most comfortable bed in the world._

_This always intrigued Peter but he never had the gall to stoop down and ask Felix why. Instead, he observed him, watched him teach the boys how to hunt, be cajoled into games by the younger ones, and fall right back asleep while everyone else was sniveling in their bed rolls. Peter wondered if it was because Felix was too old. He was certainly in his late teens, possibly on the verge of his twentieth birthday forever stolen away from the unmoving clock of Neverland._

_Peter told himself it didn't matter, shoving his thoughts aside and forgetting about Felix just as he did the rest of the boys._

_Months later, though, Felix caught his attention once more. Felix had been sitting by the campfire, flipping a dagger in his hands lazily. His eyes were unfocused, staring into the flames like he could see so much more inside their flickering forms. Before Pan was even visible, Felix's eyes had already pinned themselves on him, staring fervently at an empty space until Peter materialized._

_No matter where Peter came from, when he appeared, or how, Felix would always spot him. He'd always be the first to rush over, greeting his king and spitting out a status report without asking. If someone talked ill of Peter while he was gone, Peter would be sure to receive a report of how Felix properly pummeled one of the lost boys for treason. If Peter asked him to fetch a coconut from the third tallest tree on the island and paint a smiley face on it with the blood of butterflies, Felix would have rolled his eyes, called Peter out on his unreasonable demand, and got it done before the sun even went down._

_It painted Felix in a different light, correcting the picture Peter had so long ago. With a revelation so delicious, Peter couldn't contain the rascal in himself and was almost too eager to tease Felix with it. He escorted all the boys out of camp one day, asking them to go pick seashells at the beach for some party or holiday, all except for Felix who he asked to remain at camp for a talk._

_Felix stood at the center of the campsite, club in one hand with his other resting on the dagger at his hip. His eyes were already locked on the dirt right in front of him before Peter Pan appeared, crowding right into his personal space. Right there, he saw it, a flash of what had to be lust in Felix's eyes._

_"Do you have something to tell me, Felix?" Peter started, pacing around Felix in a jaunty manner, "We're all alone now. This would be the perfect time."_

_"I don't understand what you mean," Felix replied, voice quiet as it always was._

_"Come now, I know there's something you've wanted to say since you came to Neverland. Don't think I didn't notice," Peter closed in on Felix after one full circle, standing so close that their chests were pressed together. He could feel it, Felix's heart pounding so hard that it sent vibrations into his own chest, "Tell me."_

_Felix opened his mouth, searching for words only to close his mouth. His face was red, his expression desperate. It was a new look on the boy and Peter thought it was precious, "Peter, I lo-."_

_"Are you a girl, Felix?" Peter asked._

_"W-What?"_

_"Because lost boys can't have crushes," Peter teased, smile wide and innocent, "Only girls do. Are you a girl then?"_

_Felix's jaw clicked shut. Eyes unblinking and fists clenched to his sides, Felix shook his head quickly. He hung his head in submission, concentrating on anything but the trickster in front of him, "I'm not a girl."_

_Peter smiled brightly, eyes glittering with sadistic glee as he pat Felix's shoulder, "Good. Because I'd be so disappointed. It'd be a real shame if I made such a mistake and brought a girl to Neverland, right?"_

_"Peter Pan doesn't make mistakes," Felix replied._

_"Good boy."_

_Emotional manipulation was one of Peter's worst guilty pleasures. To have such delicious leverage on his most headstrong lost boy was going to provide him with much enjoyment for times to come. He hoped to see a change in Felix, perhaps he'd shy away from his duties, avoid Peter by taking extra shifts, or skip his daily reports that really meant nothing since Pan always knew what was happening on Neverland all the time._

_It was odd when nothing changed. Felix still watched him, protected him, searched up and down Neverland for an rainbow pineapple for him. His feelings for Pan, no matter how confused or humiliating they were, still lingered. If anything, they had solidified over the years._

_Felix never tried confessing ever again though, locking up that secret into the deepest parts of himself. Not even when Pan pressed him. Because he never wanted Pan to be disappointed in him ever._

Felix's hair was always so soft under his hands. Peter always thought the tangled mess would be coarse like twigs or unrefined wool. Under the soft pads of his fingertips, Felix's hair felt like feathers, fluffy and soft. Taking note of this, Peter continued combing his fingers through Felix's hair, straightening out the mess while Felix's head lay in his lap.

Peter had his back to the wall, sitting across the width of the bed while Felix stretched out across the length, using Peter's lap as a pillow. Peter continued to run his fingers through Felix's hair, petting him like a kitten as he hummed to him.

The feel of Peter's fingers carding across his skin, his melodious voice echoing in the cell, and the familiar warmth Felix treasured so much quickly muffled the smarting pain of his body. He smiled warmly to Peter, batting his eyelashes as a lovely blush spread over his face.

If there were still on Neverland, Peter would have mocked him. _Lost boys don't make faces like that. Why are you acting like a girl again, Felix?_ Instead, Peter smiled back, humming just a bit louder as his hand traveled down his hair, tracing his features gently. When his fingers danced across Felix's lips, the lost boy pressed a quick kiss to them, smirking when Peter pulled away just enough to dodge it. Felix lifted his right hand, pressing at Peter's soft, pink lips with his fingers. Teasing him, Peter's tongue peeked out and licked the tip of his forefinger and middle finger, nibbling them when he had drawn the fingers close enough. Felix snickered at the sight, likening Peter's motions to a cat's.

The fragile peace shattered when the heavy panel at the base of the door opened. Instinctively, Peter wrapped an arm across Felix's chest, shielding him as he eyed the door with an intense glare. They could hear footsteps outside but no one entered. Meal trays were slid in through the open panel at the base of the door and shut quickly, the harsh metal sound echoing in the tiny room.

"Just lunch," Peter remarked, releasing his hold on Felix. After laying him down on the bed gently, Peter retrieved their lunches from the floor. Since the last session they had with the Coordinator, all of their meals so far had been liquid: a variety of soups, yogurts, stews, and juices.

Peter sat Felix up against the wall while he sat across from him, placing the trays between them. With every spoonful Peter took, he'd feed Felix one as well. Even with the worst of his tremors gone, Felix was still robbed of delicate movements, jittering madly when he tried to pick up a spoon.

A small chuckle came from Felix as Peter avoided the peas in the stew, trying to find a larger chunk of meat as well for Felix to eat. Peter glanced at him, brow quirked upward, "What are you laughing about?" He asked, "You know how picky you are about food," He purposely lifted a spoonful of peas, bringing it up to Felix's lips to see the taller boy wrinkle his nose in disgust, "See?"

Just to spite him, Felix took the spoon into his mouth, slurping up the peas. He forced himself to swallow, sitting back against the wall with a triumphant look on his face which fell almost immediately when Peter lifted another spoonful of peas.

"Since you just love them _so much_ ," Peter commented, smirking as he pressed the spoon to Felix's mouth. He smiled as he wiped the spoon against the side of Felix's cheek, smearing his face with stew. Felix held in his laughter, biting down on his lip to prevent his mouth from opening.

For just a brief moment, the two weren't trapped in a prison waiting to be tortured. They were back home, back in Neverland, and safe. For that brief moment, Peter momentarily forgot and leaned in, absently pressing down on Felix's thigh. Eyes snapping open, whole body tensing up, Felix screamed in pain, swinging his head back and cracking his head against the concrete walls. Peter immediately reeled back, horrified at the reaction. He shoved the trays aside and scampered over to his beloved lost boy, hands ghosting over him desperate to touch but unable to.

"I forgot," Peter whispered frantically, cautioning a hand onto Felix's quivering back. The lost boy had curled up on himself, clutching the aching leg to his chest and sobbing into his knees, "I'll be more careful. I promise," Slowly and gently so he wouldn't startle him, Peter wound his arms around Felix's body, petting him soothingly till his sobbing died down.

Their meals were forgotten, trays shoved to the floor. The two of them remained huddled against the wall, Peter draped around Felix protectively while he weathered through the pain. Curiously, Peter peeled back the hospital gown Felix wore, revealing a horrific looking cut across his thigh just barely covered with bandages. Peter swallowed at the sight, wondering how Felix was even walking with such a wound on his body. He wasn't even sure when he received the injury but it looked fresh enough to be recent.

"Felix, let me see," Peter said softly, carefully untying the hospital gown from his body.

Felix immediately jerked away, shaking his head frantically.

"Where else has he hurt you?"

Felix shook his head again, clutching at his hospital gown. He knew Peter would only get more angry if he saw his body. It would do him no good. Regardless of his temperament, Peter would never be able to get his revenge. All he would manage to do is get himself punished for misbehaving. He whimpered when Peter clutched onto his arms, fearing for the worst. He was pleasantly surprised when Peter pulled him in instead, cradling Felix against him and pressing his face into his chest.

"Okay," Peter responded, resting his chin atop Felix's head as he rubbed soothing circles on Felix's back. Peter never would have expected this. He was easily the least well-behaved boy in Neverland, never apologizing, never showing gratitude, always getting what he wanted even if he had to use force, but in these private moments with Felix, he felt like it was the right thing to do.

Their moment of peace was shattered once more by what they hoped was another false alarm. They had no such luck as the metal door swung open, four orderlies stepping in to escort them to the torture chamber. Felix's entire body stiffened, the tremors found him again, and he gripped into Peter's chest till his nails broke flesh. He was hyperventilating, each breath coming out in a terrified whine. Peter, on the other hand, bared his teeth to the orderlies, growling threats at them as he clutched Felix tighter to his chest.

Two came from behind, hooking their arms around Peter's shoulders and jerking him back. Immediately Peter fought, swinging his elbows and fists at his attackers. He swore he heard a crunch when he swung back and struck one of them in the face but the man was completely undeterred by the action. Felix was substantially less violent, his body lancing with pain with just the slightest movement. He screamed when he was dragged away from Peter by his ankles, struggling futilely as they restrained him.

Peter still fought, kicking and thrashing like a wild animal before one of them grabbed him by the side of his hair and jabbed a needle into his exposed neck. The sedative felt cold as it was injected into him, traveling through his blood and robbing him of his strength. With the last of his motor skills, Peter reached forward, peering at Felix through his outstretched fingers, watching his beloved lost boy reach back desperately.

" _Felix_ ," The name came far softer than Peter intended it to.

Peter flickered in and out of consciousness, seeing colours, shapes, _Felix_ , before the darkness claimed him again. Peter almost wished the darkness could stay forever. It was peaceful, quiet, harmless. If only he could bring Felix as well, then it would have been perfect. A sharp sound broke through the silence, the darkness around him trembling like glass under strain. Another sharp sound, this time Peter could recognize it, a snap, shook the darkness once more. Suddenly remembering why he was submerged in darkness, Peter forced his eyes open. Through the too bright lights and shifting shapes, Peter forced himself to find Felix.

Shutting his eyes tightly before reopening them, Peter waited for the world around him to come together in logical patterns before he spoke, "Felix?" He called out, eyes landing on a long metal rack laid horizontally in front of him and the lanky form tied upon it, "Felix!" Peter cried out, suddenly finding his strength. He lunged from his seat only to be stopped by thick leather straps tying his wrists down onto the armrests of his chair, "Damn it," He hissed.

Even from where he sat, he could see Felix trembling in fear, the slightest whine in his throat whenever he breathed. His legs and arms were bound tightly to the metal rack, locking his limbs right up against his body in a compact, narrow rectangle. Peter could tell he was struggling from the slight twisting movement in his shoulders but his bonds gave him no leeway.

The terror was clear in Felix's eyes when he turned to Peter, his lips quivering as his breathing became harsher. Felix was trying so hard not to cry in front of Peter, strained breaths coming out as he fought the urge to burst into tears. He let out a pained cry as the metal rack he lay on suddenly moved, inclining his body so his head was positioned slightly lower than his feet. He ground his teeth together as two assistants clothed in pristine white just as The Coordinator stepped out from the darkness. A stream of fearful, incoherent babbling poured from Felix's lips as the assistants circled round him.

"He's terrified," The horrifically, calculating voice spoke from behind Peter, clamping an unfeeling hand onto his shoulder, "Shall you spare him of his suffering?"

Peter swallowed, watching with hopeless rage as the assistants caressed Felix's body intimately with the mock pretense of securing his restraints. Felix let out a pathetic whine as one of the assistants carded a hand through his hair, stroking his face affectionately like a lover would.

_"Promise me you won't give up Neverland,"_

Biting down on his tongue, knowing that if he opened his mouth he'd plead for Felix's life, Peter shook his head. He shuddered as the grip on his shoulder disappeared, petting him with mock affection. The Coordinator moved like a ghost, appearing beside Felix in seconds, the sound of footsteps lingering behind the image.

"Subject 7," The Coordinator said. Felix flinched like he had screamed, pupils dilated into black, depthless holes. His lips were trembling, struggling to breathe in the same air as his tormentor, "Beg for Peter Pan to save you," With his fingers right on Felix's temple, The Coordinator tipped his head to the side, forcing him to make eye contact with Peter, "Beg for Peter Pan to end your suffering."

Finding strength somewhere inside of himself, Felix clamped his mouth shut. His throat stretched as he swallowed his fear, refusing to give into his demands. He'd rather die than be a burden to Peter.

Felix, however, could not resist a scream when he felt the Coordinator close in, breathing on him leaving a poisonous scent on his neck, " _Felix_ ," The Coordinator said, hand clutching his face, forcing his fingers into his mouth, stretching his lips open, "Beg Peter Pan to end your suffering. _Felix_." He repeated his name, hissing it so close into his ear that Felix could feel his tongue inside him.

The man referring to him by his actual name made it ten times worse. Felix crushed his eyes shut and screamed, thrashing in his bonds. As terrified as he was, as much as his body throbbed in pain, all he could think about was how difficult he was making this for Peter. Above all else, Felix prized Peter. Gathering up the last of his strength, the final fragment of him that hadn't shattered, Felix twisted his head around to look into The Coordinator's eyes and shook his head, denying him satisfaction.

Offended, The Coordinator released Felix and backed away, returning to Peter's side. One more time, Felix's eyes fell upon Peter, noticing a warmth in them. His courage had not been unnoticed. Peter saw how hard he tried to stay strong and loved him for it.

_Peter's proud of me_.

Felix had no time to relish the thought as a thick cloth was pulled over his mouth and nose. He screamed into it, twisting his head to the side only for a brutal grip in his hair forcing him to look up. The two assistants had returned, one of them gripping into his hair to hold him still, the other holding a hose in his hands. The water trickled from the hose first, spilling over the cloth till it became heavy with water. The moment they noticed a change in Felix's behaviour, gentle thrashing and the slightest grunts, they turned up the flow, water spilling through the rag, down his face, and into his lungs. His chest was burning, filling up with water and straining under the weight.

Felix instinctively tried to pull in a breath, getting nothing but a mouthful of water he was forced to swallow. If he tried to hold his breath, the cloth over his face would cling to his nose and water would trickle its way in naturally. The water was choking him, filling his lungs till he thought they'd burst, burning its way down his nose and throat with brutal coldness. The heavy feeling of water falling on his face, filling up his airways, his gag reflex going haywire _, he was drowning._ Felix thrashed against his bonds, rattling them loudly. He wanted to scream but all he could feel was water down his throat, muffling his voice, filling him up and suffocating him from the inside.

Peter couldn't comprehend what was going on. All he could see was Felix struggling on the rack, eyes shut tight in pain, chest heaving in erratic bursts as the assistants poured a constant flow of water over the cloth on his face.

"It's called waterboarding," The Coordinator explained in a casual tone as if this were an everyday topic, "Have you ever experienced what it is like to drown, Peter Pan?"

Of course he had. He still remembered when he was just a boy running away from his father. He tried to sneak upon a docked ship only to slip off the soggy wood and plummet into the harbour. He'd never learned how to swim, his drunken father never bothering to teach him anything, and he remembered thrashing helplessly as cold water forced its way into his throat, a feeling like inhaling needles. It was _agony_ , the worst thing Peter had ever experienced. If he had a choice on how he'd die, drowning would be the very last on his list.

When Peter shook himself out of his memory, he found The Coordinator staring at him with disturbing interest. He was reading Peter's memory through his eyes and it excited him. Peter growled, "Sick bastard."

A loud gasp immediately tore Peter's attention away from The Coordinator. The cloth was lifted off of Felix's face. The assistant gripping into his hair forced his head upwards as Felix hacked out mouthful after mouthful of water. He tried to pull in a breath and couldn't feel the slightest movement in the air. The water was a solid mass within his lungs. He's suffocating again, airways unblocked but unable to breathe.

One of the assistants immediately had their hands in the middle of his chest, pressing down _hard_ to force the water out of him. Water erupted from Felix's throat, spewing out through his mouth and nose violently. Drenched in water, lungs burning with exhaustion, Felix's head fell back as he took deep, shaky breaths. Felix made the mistake of thinking that it was over. The moment he had caught his breath, the wet cloth came over his mouth once more. Thrashing suddenly, Felix screamed into the rag before water came crashing down once more, renewing that horrific sensation of drowning.

"Depending on the setup, the water may not get into the person's lungs. It is the mere feeling of being underneath heavy water that kick-starts the experience of drowning," The Coordinator continued to explain without prompts, "But I thought this would be more interesting for you to watch."

Peter hung his head, grinding his teeth together to prevent himself from taking the bait. He focused on Felix, thrashing so violently that he swore he'd be able to break out of his restraints. Felix's mouth and throat were filled with water and it _hurt_ like glass driving into his flesh. A dizzy spell took over, the nauseous feeling sitting at the pit of his stomach no longer bearable. The sour flavour of bile was the only warning Felix had before he found himself vomiting into the cloth. Immediately, the soiled cloth was removed and his head was propped up as heaved a thin, watery vomit all over his chest. His stomach strained painfully, all of his muscles were clenched tightly, wound together like a metal spring. He couldn't stop the vomit from bubbling up his throat even when all he managed to heave was a translucent, runny fluid.

Felix thought he imagined Peter calling for him. It didn't matter though; he couldn't hear it over the water pounding over his face as the cloth was replaced and he was suffocating all over again.

Peter thought hours had passed, hours of watching Felix drown and forced back to life over and over again. Felix no longer had a grasp on time, his lungs straining with exhaustion, his body numb from the oxygen deprivation, nausea twisting his stomach violently, and his mind constantly skirting the edge of death and life. The Coordinator knew exactly how much time had passed: _Forty minutes_. As he expected, Felix was already defeated.

Felix watched the assistants back away, flinching and crying out when he heard the heavy scrape of a chair being pushed up beside him. His whole body was trembling, shivering from the icy water that soaked his upper half thoroughly and blatant fear from knowing that The Coordinator _will_ deliver on his threats.

Grasping a fistful of Peter's hair, The Coordinator forced Peter's head towards Felix, forcing him to study the suffering twisted on Felix's features. Peter's rage had long since cooled, leaving nothing but an awful shame that he knew would never disappear even if he were to escape. Guilt was all he felt as he examined Felix's pale lips, swollen nostrils, unfocused eyes, and shivering form. What shattered the last of Peter's resolve was the terror that flashed upon his face when the cloth was draped over his face once more. All of his fatigue became irrelevant and he struggled all over again, movement slow and jerky from atrophy. It was so much worse up close than from where Peter had sat. From the close proximity, he could hear Felix groaning beneath the cloth, choking on the water as it trickled in through his nose and mouth.

Just earlier this day, Peter had been carding his fingers through Felix's hair, humming him to sleep, feeding him like a lover would and Felix was _smiling_. How did everything fall apart so quickly and disastrously?

" _Stop_ ," Peter gasped out, "Please _stop_." No one was listening to him. They weren't going to stop till he gave them _exactly what they wanted_. The water kept pouring down, sinking Felix deeper and deeper into cold, depthless waters. _This wasn't fair_. Why should Felix have to suffer for him? More than anything, even his own power, he wanted to _end his suffering_ , "I relinquish..." Peter cut himself off, choking on his own words.

The water immediately shut off, the cloth removed from Felix's face as his head was tipped forward again, allowing him to cough the water out of his lungs. When his breathing evened out, they dropped his head to the metal rack callously, his head smacking hard against the metal backing. Felix turned to the side sluggishly, facing Peter but not focusing on him.

Peter nearly gave in and it horrified him just as much as it gave him peace. There was just the tiniest piece of resolve left inside him, the same one that contained his promise to Felix, that prevented him from giving up. The Coordinator picked up on that and knew he had to shatter it.

"He has been a strong boy," The Coordinator commented, pressing a hand to his sopping flesh and smoothing his hair back, " _Felix_. Beg Peter Pan to save you." And break the final piece of his resolve.

Felix's eyes flickered weakly, blinking out the water in his eyes before focusing on Peter's face so etched with sadness and guilty. For a brief moment, he didn't know why. Nothing made sense, he was nowhere and everywhere. Why was he bound? Why was he cold? Why was he wet? Everything flowed together into a watery mess like a painting washing away in the rain.

" _Beg Peter Pan to save you_ ," The voice said again.

This voice certainly didn't sound pleasant. Quite the opposite, Felix felt like quivering in fear just at the sound of the voice. It sounded distant and muffled like he was speaking to him through several meters of water. His thoughts didn't seem to linger for long, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. Peter was the only constant, sitting before him, face twisted with remorse. Why was Peter upset? Was it his fault? Felix didn't want that. He didn't want Peter upset, ever. But what could he say to make him happy?

"Tell him what he needs to hear," The voice was more insistent now.

_Ah, I got it._

"Peter, I love you."

Everyone was silent. The Coordinator wasn't sure if this was a victory or not. _Peter_ wasn't sure if this was a victory or not. All he could do was stare at Felix, jaw dropped and mortified. He hadn't heard those words in ages and at such a moment, with what could have been Felix's final bit of clarity, he finally confessed his long, locked-away secret.

Felix waited for the smirk on Peter's face whenever he teased Felix, eyes shining with mirth like a child receiving his first birthday present.

Peter's guilty expression faded just a bit, a sad smile ghosted over his features, "Are you a girl, Felix?" He said without a single lick of spite. Strength returned to him when Felix _smiled back_ , rejuvenated by the act of making _his king_ smile. Peter clicked his mouth shut, shooting an intense look at the Coordinator as his resolve returned.

He wasn't given even the slightest moment to relish in his victory. In a rare fit of rage, The Coordinator kicked over Peter's chair sending him tumbling to the ground. The assistants quickly pulled the cloth over Felix's tired smile, relentlessly dumping water over his face and drowning him all over again. Peter knew he shouldn't have considered this anything more than a slight reprieve. He still smirked though, snarling at the Coordinator with a wicked smile knowing that he and Felix got under his skin.

" _Get him out of here_ ," The Coordinator growled, sounding more like a beast than a man. From the shadows, four orderlies approached them. Two went for Peter, untying him and restraining him when he began to fight. The other two went for Felix but immediately froze in place when The Coordinator's eyes landed on them, his sadistic intent clear to see, "Not him. He stays." Like rats, the orderlies quickly scurried away, desperate to disappear from The Coordinator's line of sight.

Peter's head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful, completely forgetting about the small victory he was priding himself on, "No!" Peter shouted, utterly ignored by the orderlies and The Coordinator, "Felix!" He screamed, feet skidding across the floor as they dragged him out, "FELIX!" His neck throbbed again as they stabbed another needle into the flesh, drowning his mind in darkness and separating him from his beloved lost boy.

 

It was a loud metal clang of one of the door panels that woke Peter. The last thing he saw was Felix's body thrashing weakly in the shadows and The Coordinator, arms crossed behind his back, staring at him with unblinking, unfeeling eyes.

Even without looking, Peter could feel Felix's presence absent from the cell. Peter sat up quickly, immediately slumping against the wall when a wave of nausea engulfed him. They had used a far more potent drug to sedate him this time and it had yet to be flushed out of his body. It took him a few moments before his vision stabilized, the focal points in both eyes lining up properly. Taking several deep breaths to clear the queasiness in his stomach, Peter raised his head slowly and flinched when he saw The Coordinator staring back at him through the open grate at the center of the door.

Snarling and baring his teeth despite his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, Peter got to his feet and approached the door, prowling towards him with a threatening stance, "Where. Is. Felix?" Peter growled. The Coordinator did not react the slightest to his words, unblinking and barely breathing. Peter almost mistook him for a mannequin, eyes soulless and skin pale as death, "Where is he!" He slammed the metal door with his fists, not caring for the harsh pain shooting up his arms with every strike. It only made him angrier when The Coordinator said nothing, staring at him with sick amusement in his eyes, laughing at a joke only he could hear.

Pressed right up against the door, Peter realized that if the door was not between them, he'd be standing chest-to-chest with the twisted bastard. The brief realization made him shiver in fear but his resolve returned quickly when he remembered his beloved lost boy, "Bring him to me or I swear you'll _regret it,"_ Peter punctuated his threat with another strike to the wall, making it vibrate against the concrete walls it was hinged to.

"Felix is being punished right now and he cannot be returned till his session has concluded," The Coordinator said in a clinical voice, reciting the statement like an automated message, "Fear not. I have brought you a gift so you won't miss him," The metal panel revealing his face closed just as the panel at their feet opened.

A typical meal tray was slid into his cell containing nothing but a bundle of cloth. Something heavy and sinister filled the core of Peter's body, threatening to crush him from the inside out. For longer than Peter would have liked, he couldn't move a muscle, merely staring at the bundle as his heartbeat quickened to a maddening pace till he could hear nothing but the violent pounding in his veins.

It took Peter every nerve he had to crouch to the ground. By the time he had picked up the cloth in his hands, felt the warmth seeping through them, Peter was already in a frenzy, millions of voices and emotions _screaming at him_ , begging him to stop so he'd never have to know. The cloth unfolded in his hands like a flower, each petal falling off with the intensifying tremble racking Peter's body. His breath strained, his mind sinking into delirium, blinded by rage, dread, despair, _guilt_ , Peter curled up and screamed, clutching in his hands two of Felix's fingers, the telltale nibble at the tips proof of their owner.

Peter found himself lunging towards the door, hammering at the metal with every limb till the dull pain incapacitated him, "I'll kill you! Do you hear me you fucking bastard? I'll KILL YOU!" Peter shrieked at the door, punctuating each word with a violent strike that did little else outside of bruising up his own body, "I'll fucking kill you!" He pounded at the door till his legs gave way, fresh bruises shaped like cogs and bars all along his limbs. When the blunt pain robbed him of his strength, Peter crushed the bundle of cloth to his chest, unable to stare at the severed fingers. He choked down a sob, "FELIX!" He cried out, pressing his forehead hard against the door till a groove appeared on his skin, "... _I'm sorry_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone would like a reference on how the Coordinator looks like, Lars Mikkelsen as Charles Augustus Magnussen from Sherlock is who I imagine.

_It was the dead of night. All the lost boys were asleep, crowding around the bonfire Peter had setup for them. Felix wasn't with them though, constructing himself a miniature campsite on the side with a small fire pit providing him just enough warmth and light. They had recently attacked an invading ship and lost more than half of their supplies. Felix elected himself to restock their weapons, spending the entire day whittling branches into arrows and harvesting dreamshade into a liquid form._

_Peter watched him from afar, hypnotized by Felix's deft hands working at the wood completely unafraid of the deadly poison drenching the arrow, a splinter away from killing him. His hood was down as it would have just impaired him at night especially when he was crafting. His wild dirty blonde hair tousled like a bird's nest shone_ gold _in the flickering orange light. The light of the fire highlighted Felix's face, picking out his sharp features and hollowed cheeks. The scar on his face was an ugly reminder of how he nearly lost his life to a pirate. By no means was it a detriment to his appearance. On the contrary, Peter thought it made him even more alluring, like a feral beast that only he could tame._

_For the first time, Peter truly looked at Felix and took him in, realizing how beautiful his lost boy really was._

_Felix let out a tiny gasp when Peter plopped beside him on the log, picking up a branch wordlessly and whittling away at it with his own knife. The two acknowledged each other silently with a nod before turning back to their crafts. Peter worked substantially slower than Felix, his eyes drifting over to Felix's so he could properly study his careful movements and mimic them. With all his power, Peter could have just wished the arrows into existence but he would never be able to get them at the same level of craft and care Felix made them with._

_Felix was so concentrated with his work, he nearly missed it when Peter's hands stopped, his eyes no longer on the arrow but on Felix's face, studying it carefully. The moment he finally noticed, he could only spare a fleeting glance at Peter before jerking away flustered and returning to his work, whittling his arrow so hard that he snapped it right in half. The dagger slipped through the wood and shaved off a piece of Felix's thumb. Cursing silently, Felix brought the cut into his mouth and sucked on it._

_Felix froze when Peter took him by the wrist, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a quiet pop. There was the slightest tremble in his wrist when Peter brought Felix's hand close and dragged the tip of his tongue over the cut, the wound vanishing with the touch. He turned to Felix, giving him a pleasant smile and loving it when Felix smiled back. Realizing that he was blushing, Felix immediately turned away and distracted himself with his work._

_Peter chuckled at his reaction, watching mirthfully as Felix picked up another branch and started on a new arrow, trying so hard to stay un-flustered. After another brief moment of watching Felix's hypnotizing skill, Peter returned his concentration to the branch in his own hands. Even though they said no words to each other, even though all they did was craft arrows, that was one of the most enjoyable moments in all of Peter's life on Neverland._

Stirring from the pleasant dream, Peter didn't want to open his eyes knowing that if he did, he'd have to acknowledge that he was still imprisoned. Instead, he curled his arms tighter around the warm body on top of him, shifting his body upward just a bit so he could bury his face into Felix's feathery hair. Both of them had returned to the floor when the sessions had finally ground away at them, finding solace on the cold, dusty corner furthest from the door over the soft mattress.

Peter opened his eyes when he realized that he could no longer sleep. In this cell, there was no comfort of safety. As long as he wasn't exhausted, he'd be on full alert. Not wanting to wake Felix, Peter remained where he was at the wall, hidden in the niche behind the sink and the foot of the bed sitting on a pillow with Felix draped on his chest, laying between his knees.

Peter's hands traced Felix's narrow wrists, noting how much smaller the boy had become. Felix was always a lanky boy but he made up for it with lean, compact muscles gained from the centuries of hunting in Neverland. As Peter circled his fingers around his wrist now, all he could feel was skin and bone. Felix's sleeve fell back as Peter lifted his arm, revealing the horrific bruises and scrapes caused by the various assortments of restraints that had been applied to him.

Peter didn't dare to look at Felix's right hand, the bundle of cloth containing his severed fingers stuffed into a corner under the bed so Peter would never have to look at them. His fingers instead traced Felix's other hand, all fingers present but all fingernails _ripped clean off_.

Peter could still remember the inhuman contraption on the solitary table bolted to the floor. _He remembered Felix restrained by an arm twisted behind his back, The Coordinator not flinching even as Felix thrashed hysterically. Somewhere in the twists of metal and leather, Felix's arm was restrained within it, hand spread wide and seemingly dissected by steel prongs rusted at the edges where skin made contact. There was a lever on the side, the only thing anyone could have recognized on the ungodly machine. The Coordinator didn't even use much force, merely pressing the lever down like closing a box as a series of mechanical clicks, a horrific crunch, and a suffering cry filled the silence._

Peter brought Felix's fingers to his lips, kissing the top of his knuckles trying to wish it all better. He caught sight of the raw flesh where his nails once were, noticing how the injuries had fully closed up. It only made Peter wonder exactly how long they had been waiting in the cell. In a distant memory, he remembered how he sent his shadow to find his son. If rescue hadn't come now, it was likely never to come. He couldn't blame Rumpel though. If the situation had been flipped, Peter would have done the same.

Although he tried to avoid it, when Peter could no longer distract himself from Felix's dilapidated form, his eyes travelled to Felix's knees, scanning downward till he met the hospital gown still blanketing his thighs. He blamed his curiousness, the juvenile eccentricity that centuries of childhood had engraved into his behaviour. His hand shook as he reached out, taking the corner of the hospital gown and peeling it back just enough to see the angry bruises all along the insides of Felix's thighs. Peter growled, feeling himself grow angry, his heart pounding so hard that it shook his body.

_Felix slammed facedown onto the bolted table, the unholy contraption gone replaced with Felix's body. His hospital gown was hiked up over his hips, exposing him to his assaulters. Both arms were twisted behind his back, his mangled fingers twitching helplessly as his shoulder screamed from the tension. Staring at Peter always helped him weather through his torture but in this situation, forced into a shameful position, all it did was make everything exponentially worse. Felix shut his eyes tightly, tears still squeezing out of them and soaking the wood against his cheek._

When Felix had come to in their cell, he swore that this was the first time, swore that they'd never touched him before. Peter couldn't hear him, too busy beating the door with his fists screaming death threats at Felix's assaulters till his voice became hoarse. All it did was attract orderlies to the cell who promptly beat Peter into submission before locking up again. Peter knew Felix was lying, knew they had raped him even before they knew Felix was important to Peter. The way Felix shielded his thighs, prevented Peter from stripping him naked even to check a loosened bandage when blood seeped through the gown, it altogether painted an image far too vivid for Peter to understand. He held it in though, sealing up the rage deep inside him and waiting till it rot away for Felix's sake. At least, that was what he hoped till they purposely defiled Felix in front of him, reawakening his anger.

Hatred stung his eyes as Peter gripped Felix close, turning his beloved lost boy till he could clutch him chest-to-chest. For Felix to suffer because of Peter Pan's magic, _It wasn't fair._ Felix's pale skin was all but dyed a sickening blue from the countless assaults, his body littered with burns and cuts here and there while Peter was completely unbroken save for a few discolorations. The worst part of it all was that t _here was nothing Peter could do about it._ A part of him knew getting angry would achieve nothing outside of a beating from the guards. He _wanted_ that so he could at least try to match the pain in Felix's body.

Biting in another pointless apology, Peter wrapped his arms around Felix's head and clutched him close, cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Peter _shuddered_ before he even understood why. With Felix's body clutched so close to him, his face just ghosting over his cheek, Peter _couldn't feel him breathing_ , "Felix?" Peter murmured, taking Felix by the shoulders and shaking him gently, "Felix!" He cried out, "Wake up. Please! Felix!" No response. Not a twitch of movement. Nothing.

How long had he stopped breathing? Peter immediately pressed an ear to his chest, relieved at his still warm body and the slightest heartbeat beneath his skin. Carefully laying Felix on the floor, Peter nearly tripped over himself as he scrambled over to the door, slamming at it with his fists.

"Guards! Help! Please!" Peter cried out frantically, not caring if he sounded pathetic and weak, "Someone please help!" He heard people mobilizing outside, "It's Felix! He's stopped breathing," Peter cried out the door, lips nearly pressed against the closed upper panel. When the door still remained closed, Peter gave it a sharp kick, "DO SOMETHING!"

The door swung open and immediately two orderlies rushed in and restrained Peter, twisting his arms under their grip and holding him down on his knees as a small team dressed in medical uniforms rushed in. For once, Peter didn't struggle. He remained where he knelt, beneath everyone but willing as long as Felix was getting the medical attention he needed. He watched them lift Felix up with a care that he hadn't seen from a single person in the facility, laying him down on a stretcher before wheeling him out quickly, the medics mumbling procedures to each other as they left.

One medic with a golden symbol emblazoned on the breast of his jacket remained, scrolling through data on his phone. Peter couldn't help but notice the steely coldness in his eyes, reminiscent of The Coordinator, "Take him with us," The medic said, backing away as the orderlies pulled Peter to his feet and dragged him out.

Before exiting the prison wing, Peter's wrists were cuffed together, the guards ratcheting them as tight as they could disregarding Peter's clear discomfort. A sack was thrown over his head, preventing him from plotting any escapes by examining the facility. Though he couldn't see, Peter easily studied the path on his mental map, noting how they had turned right at the intersection when they'd usually turn left for the torture chamber. He hoped The Coordinator had no power outside of his own department. The last thing he needed to see was his sharp-featured face during his downtime.

Peter's feet eventually met a cold, tiled floor. He was sat down on a stool, the sack lifted from his head as he watched medics scramble around a hospital bed, moving together like clockwork as they hooked Felix up to multiple machines.

Several doctors entered, wheeling in a set of tools that Peter almost mistook for The Coordinator's private set. They cleared the area quickly, setting up a breathing apparatus for Felix and a defibrillator when his heartbeat began to slow. Peter stayed still on his stool, petrified by fear as Felix's life dangled on a fraying thread in front of him.

_Fear_. _Rage. Guilt._ They were becoming commonplace in Peter's life. A hundred years ago, he would've never imagined he'd be in this situation, locked up, powerless, in a perpetual state of dread.

"Bring him over," The senior medic declared, gesturing in Peter's direction.

Grabbing onto his arm callously, the closest medic pulled Peter off his stool and right to the side of the bed. Almost immediately, the medics noticed a spike of activity in Felix's dying system on the monitors. They turned Peter's elbows so both his wrists would be pointing upward, revealing the underside of his arm. There was a needle at his skin before he was even aware of what was going on. Immediately Peter jerked away, striking one medic right in the jaw as the needle sailed onto the bed.

"Don't touch me!" Peter snarled, tearing his arms away from the medic holding him still.

"You want to save your friend, don't you?" The senior medic said. Despite his depthless eyes, he certainly did not talk like The Coordinator, his inflections and expression still very much human, "There is magic in your blood. That's why you two are sharing a cell, being in your presence will quicken Felix's recovery. If we inject your blood directly, it will certainly speed up the rejuvenation," The man held a hand out to Peter, knowing he would comply to save Felix.

The stool was pulled up behind him when Peter lowered his wrists into the medic's hands. The needle came in, feeding his blood into a tube and eventually into Felix. They hadn't used much though, admitting that they were merely experimenting because they had no other choice. Peter swallowed his pride and accepted their best efforts. This was more mercy than he'd had in a very long time.

Fortunately, for what felt like the first time lady luck smiled upon them, Felix's heartbeat strengthened as Peter's blood flowed into his veins. His breathing evened out, misting the breathing tube latched to his nose. He had hoped the discolouration of his skin would fade as well, wounds closing, bruises fading, but there was no such luck. Perhaps if he were at full power but not in his current state.

"He will need to rest here till he heals," The senior medic explained as the others quickly shuffled out, "You are to remain at his side but I assume I wouldn't be able to separate you regardless," Peter gave him a firm nod, "Good. The nurses will be coming in and out to check on him,"

Peter watched the senior medic leave, relieved that not everyone in this imprisonment was psychopathic. His attention almost immediately snapped back to Felix. With his wrists still bound, Peter reached forward and brushed the hair from Felix's face. Felix was always trembling in his sleep since they waterboarded him, the experience leaving a traumatic void in his mind. Peter always heard him whimper in his sleep, crying out for Peter when he wouldn't dare to do it in his waking hours. He'd usually wake up screaming, crying, or a mixture of the two as he clung to Peter and shook uncontrollably. Peter thought nothing of it, his thoughts on Felix's bravery unchanged.

In hindsight, Peter should've known something was wrong when he had awakened with Felix completely still in his arms. He knew a part of him was purposely ignorant, trying to believe Felix was cured of his simulated night terrors. He pulled his stool just a bit closer, ignoring the nurse who shot a cautious look at him. With the back of his hand, he caressed the side of Felix's face, humming to him pleasantly like a mother would to a child.

Laying in the pristine sheets, face lax with calmness, body still save for the slightest rise in his chest as he took a breath, Peter hadn't seen Felix this peaceful in a long while. Finally able to study his face without distress twisted into his features, it reminded Peter of how _beautiful_ Felix always was to him. Felix never considered himself a looker, barely taking care of his appearance. He rarely dried his hair after a wash, letting it dry in whatever strange sculpture it happened to shape itself as. Perhaps it was that carelessness that Peter desired, just a simple charm baring all of Felix's natural ferocity.

A small whimper woke Peter from his thoughts. Twitching just a bit, Felix slowly opened his eyes. The light of the medical bay blinded him temporarily. He shut his eyes again, grumbling as he tried turning his head.

"Felix?" Peter cautioned, reaching out and taking Felix's hand into both of his, ignoring the brushing of the stumps where two of his fingers used to be.

Felix groaned lightly as he tilted his head towards Peter, opening up just a sliver of his eyes to watch him, " _Peter_ ," He sighed out dreamily, "You're here."

"I'll always be here," Peter replied, lifting Felix's hand and pressing a kiss to his wrist.

Felix snickered at the gesture, chortles coming out more like breathy sighs than actual laughter but Peter understood. He flexed the hand in Peter's grip, lifting his arm and stretching it outward to test his strength.

"Your strength is returning," Peter commented. His blood may not have healed Felix fully but it was certainly returning some things to him.

Felix nodded to him, lowering his arm back onto the bed, "I feel a lot better. I wonder what they did."

Peter smirked, unable to resist, "They put my blood inside of you. I guess you should have me inside you more often. Apparently it's good for your health."

Felix immediately flushed at his words, his face dyed red underneath the bluish patches littered all over. He looked away, fighting the smile on his face. Peter studied his expression, memorizing it so he'd always remember his adorable reaction.

Felix had dozed off shortly after, shifting in and out of consciousness involuntarily. Peter didn't mind, taking the time to hum melodies to soothe him. There were times when Felix would awaken and Peter wouldn't notice. Felix wouldn't say anything, finding pleasure in watching Peter's gentle expression as he sang a wordless song.

"Hey, are you awake?" Peter asked, nudging Felix's arm. The lost boy nodded softly, focusing on Peter's face, "When we get back to Neverland, we should do something."

"Like, a party?" Felix replied, confused.

"No, just the two of us. We should do something special," Peter explained, "For the last hundred years, we've just been doing the same things over and over again. We should do something special when we get back."

A naughty smirk flashed on Felix's face, "And when you say special, you mean to say..."

Peter caught the smirk and returned it, massaging Felix's wrist as he spoke, "If you're lucky."

It was a foolish dream. Peter knew that he would die in this prison just as Felix did. They couldn't help it though, finally given a moment's reprieve. They let their minds wander into somewhere soft and happy, briefly forgetting of their awful fates to come.

Felix reached out for Peter again, lazy smile on his face. Peter reached back immediately, taking his hand and careful to avoid the missing fingers. His blood ran cold when his eyes returned to Felix's face, the lazy smile _shattered_ and replaced with a pure horror. The tremors found him once more, shaking the bed and all the devices hooked into him.

Peter didn't dare turn around. It didn't matter though. He could feel the hellishly cold presence behind him. Their soft, warm fantasy instantly shattered to pieces, replaced by the unfeeling chill of reality. He clutched Felix's hand tightly, trying to get him to look away and concentrate on him instead. Felix couldn't respond, so terrified that he couldn't comprehend anything else.

"I have increased the nutrition intake of your meals," The Coordinator declared, "You stopped breathing because you are suffering from malnutrition. Consume everything that is delivered in your meals or you will surely die."

Peter couldn't help but think that the Coordinator was mocking him. Like Felix would ever be dying if it wasn't for him ripping him apart and putting him back together every few days. Peter forced himself to stare at The Coordinator, noticing that his eyes were on _him_ and not Felix. He swallowed down his fear, letting his bravado speak, "Don't give me that bullshit. It's because of you and your sick, twisted games that Felix is dying."

"Do you take me for an amateur?" The Coordinator cut him off with a condescending voice. If Peter had to pin a human emotion to that demonic tone, he'd say The Coordinator sounded irritated, "My methods are all precisely calculated to avoid even the slightest probability of death right down to the length of the session, rest cycle, and nutrition to maintain the captive for as long as possible. Should he be dying, the fault is on variables controlled be you. Not me."

Peter could say nothing, too afraid to incur the man's wrath. He mentally scolded himself, knowing that if he had met this man in his prime, he would've never cowered away. Should he ever escape, Peter swore he'd never bend to The Coordinator's will ever again. He lowered his head as the demonic man left. As soon as his slow but firm footsteps exited the medical bay, life immediately returned: Nurses walking back and forth in the halls, a medic occasionally dropping by to check on Felix. It was like a whole new world opened as soon as The Coordinator disappeared.

Peter wanted to joke about it, lighten the mood for Felix, but was cut off when Felix's eyes suddenly lost focus, "Felix?" He shouted before backing away as Felix seized in bed, gangly limbs flailing limply against his side knocking away tubes and wires, "Nurse! Something's happening!"

Immediately, the nurses came in, carefully holding Felix down as his seizure grew worse. Peter could do nothing but watch, nails digging into his cuffs as Felix's head flopped to its side, staring straight at Peter. In mere moments, the seizure passed and the nurses released him. He lay limply on the bed, looking as if he were sleeping if not for his open eyes and heavy breathing.

When his mind finally returned, Felix focused on Peter, noting the despair in his eyes. He smiled briefly, wanting to reassure him that everything was alright and that he wasn't hurt. The words were caught in his throat when he saw the nurse enter the supply room behind him, "P-Peter..." He whispered out, eyes widening as the door swung open, " _Look_."

Taking note of Felix's hushed voice, Peter turned his head slowly, avoiding sudden movements as he peered over his shoulder and into the supply room. The door was closing but Peter immediately caught what Felix's eyes had found: A fire exit at the very back. His heart beat raced again but for an entirely different reason.

Peter's wrists may have been bound but he could still stand, walk, and _run._ He looked to Felix, asking without words of he could stand. Felix hesitated to reply, a far less optimistic plan in his thoughts, something Peter immediately caught. Narrowing his eyes with conviction, Peter knew Felix could never deny him if he insisted. After just a brief moment of exchange glances, Felix nodded back quickly. Both of them carefully removed everything hooked into Felix, helping him off the bed and into a pair of slippers left behind by the doctors.

Felix positioned himself right in front of the door while Peter stayed to the side with his stool in hand. On cue, the nurse exited the supply room, gasping when she noticed Felix on his feet and off the bed. Distraction successful, Peter struck the nurse down with the stool before jamming the stool between the door and frame of the supply room.

"Come on," Peter shouted, reaching out for Felix. When Felix didn't take his hand, Peter grabbed his wrist and pulled, "Felix!" He shouted, the slightest desperation in his voice. He couldn't bear to look at Felix's face which he knew must've been twisted in despair. Peter didn't care though, his grip iron against Felix's wrist as he pulled him into the supply room and out the fire exit.


	4. Chapter 4

_The only way Peter could describe himself was_ alive _. He felt amazing, blood pumping through his veins and drenching his skin. The thrill of the hunt was a drug and he wasn't the least bit ashamed of his addiction._

_It was a bloody battle against Hook and his pirate crew. He never expected former sailors to be so proficient in battle. They had lost a good chunk of boys in that battle but given that the casualties on the enemy side were at least double theirs, Peter considered this a victory._

_At their camp, all the boys were struggling to recuperate, curled up on the floor nursing their wounds and screaming for help. The cowards who hung behind quickly became medics, patching up the injured boys the best they could. Everyone was scared, defeated, even though Pan had declared their victory when they reached the camp._

_His lost boys were dragging him out of his euphoric high, pulling him back into the harsh reality of casualties, fear, and collateral damage. Ignoring their pleas, Peter left the camp, knowing exactly who would share his sentiments and indulge him. He found him by the spring they had procured after slaying a small mermaid tribe. Felix knelt by the edge, splashing water into the nasty cut across his face. He was startled when he noticed Peter behind, sitting on a log staring at him with a mischievous smile. Peter could see it in Felix's eyes: Excitement, just like his own._

_Despite the angry wound stretching from his right cheek to his forehead, a wild smile was plastered on Felix's face making him look almost psychotic. Understanding the implicit command, Felix sauntered over to Peter and collapsed onto the log next to him. Unlike the other boys, Felix and Peter loved battle, lusted for it, and even now, they weren't sated. For them, it finished too quickly._

_High on life, pumped with adrenaline, Peter bit his lip hungrily and reached over to Felix, groping his groin and pleased to find that Felix was just as excited as he was. Without a shred of shame, Felix ran a tongue over his lips at the sight of Peter's voracious stare, enticing Peter further. Peter promptly tackled Felix onto the dirt, both of them ripping off their clothes and clutching bruises into each other's flesh as they crushed their lips into each other._

_This was the first time Peter had ever taken Felix. It was nothing but raw, carnal fucking leaving both of them aching in the dirt like animals in heat. He sealed up Felix's injury afterwards, purposely leaving the scar on his face so Felix would always remember their first time when he saw his reflection._

_They spoke nothing of it the next day, showed no signs of sexual attraction to one another other than a few fleeting glances and coy remarks from Pan. It was their secret affair that would only be indulged after a bloodthirsty battle._

_Peter couldn't deny that he found himself seeking out more battles._

The adrenaline rush would have been enjoyable had it not been for their current circumstance. Peter sprinted across the paved ground pulling Felix along who just barely could keep up. He was glad he had stopped to find slippers for Felix, the gravelly ground would have torn apart his bare feet. It was clear that their captors hadn't noticed their escape yet, no pursuers, no alarms. For now, while they were still incognito, they had to cover as much ground as they possibly could.

Peter still couldn't feel his magic so he could only assume that the cause of his magic deficiency was not limited by perimeter but actually something inside him.

Cutting across the paved area, Peter was surprised to find the facility surrounded by forest. It was in the dead of nowhere, no one to hear them, _no one to save them_. Peter cursed mentally and immediately rushed into the trees, their earthy scent and natural surroundings reminiscent of Neverland. With their adept knowledge of the forest, Peter easily weaved through the uneven terrain even with his wrists still bound together. If it weren't for his injuries, Peter knew Felix would be far more proficient at navigating the wilds, needing to relying on his own instincts rather than magic.

Peter ground to a halt when Felix crumpled to the dirt floor behind him, instantly becoming dead weight. Rushing to his side, Peter knelt down and hooked an arm under his shoulders, hauling him up quickly, "Come on! We have to go before they notice!"

Felix groaned in pain, tearing away from Peter when he had reawakened an old pain in his once dislocated shoulder, "I can't get up," He muttered, "My legs won't move," Peter's eyes immediately dropped to his legs noticing the streaks of thick blood reopened by the intense activity. In a panic, Peter ignorantly grabbed his calf; Felix had to sink his teeth into his own arm to prevent the scream from echoing in the forest. Immediately Peter flinched away, watching Felix's breath quicken in an attempt to dull the pain, "You have to go without me."

" _No way_ ,"

" _Please_ , go without me. Get your magic back," Felix pleaded.

"If you say that one more time, I will _never_ speak to you ever again." Peter snapped childishly.

"That's okay. As long as you get away."

"You'll be _dead_ if I leave you!" Peter shouted hysterically. If Peter Pan got away, they knew there'd be no way he'd let himself get caught again. Felix would be of no use to them anymore.

What broke Peter's heart was when Felix nodded back, _smiling._ Peter expected it, knew his beloved lost boy would throw away his life for him. He just never prepared himself for it, wishing that a situation like this would never happen, and it took him by surprise.

Noticing Peter's loss of words, Felix reached out and touched his cheek, trying so hard to maintain his smile, "You have to get away. Peter Pan never fails, right?"

Peter couldn't move. He sat upon the dirt staring at Felix, seeing himself reflected in his silver eyes, seeing a _failure_. Even when he heard footsteps closing in and voices in the distance, Peter couldn't find the strength to stand.

The smile dropped from Felix's face when Peter didn't react. Felix eyes searched their surroundings quickly, trying to survey exactly how close their pursuers were. "Peter," He whimpered, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, " _Please_ go. I'm begging you. _Please_."

A gasp slipped from his lips when Peter looped his bound arms around him and pulled him flush against his body, embracing him till Felix thought he might shatter like glass. Understanding that Peter wasn't going to leave him, Felix hugged him back, grasping into the back of his shirt tightly and crushing himself against Peter's chest. He couldn't even find it in himself to care for the one pursuer who had gotten dangerously close, mere steps away from discovering them.

_And then he let go_ , a sudden confidence returning to Peter, his eyes blazing with purpose. He scooped up Felix in between his arms, noticing how much easier it was to lift the tall, lanky boy, and laid him down in the bushes. It was a pathetic hiding spot at best and Felix was just about to question Peter till the boy laid a finger on his lips, silencing him. Obeying as he always did, Felix nodded back and stayed quiet, watching Peter skulk into the trees waiting for the chaser.

As to be expected, it was no soldier, unlike the ones who had caught them in the first place, decked out in anti-magic gear. To reach them this quickly, their pursuer couldn't have been holding anything heavy. The chaser was a simple orderly armed with a electrical prod armed to subdue, not kill.

The orderly saw Felix first, seeing his ankles peeking out from the leaves. As soon as he rushed over to apprehend him, Peter tackled him down where he was hiding, grappling the electrical prod out of his hands and proceeding to beat the man into submission. Felix watched intensely as Peter wrestled with the assailant, just barely blocking blows with his bound wrists while the substantially large man struggled underneath him.

With Peter's teeth bared and fists bloody, something familiar and dark reawakened inside of Felix. The darkness only became more vivid when Peter's bared teeth twisted into a smile as he pinned down one of the man's arms and proceeded to strangle the man to death. The bloodlust of battle, the anticipation of bones crunching beneath knuckles, gambling lives in the heat of war. Under The Coordinator's thumb, Felix had no choice but to submit. Seeing Peter fight for their lives reminded Felix of what truly made him Peter's beloved lost boy.

Just as Peter's strength returned when he resolved to save Felix, Felix's strength returned when he saw Peter back in his element. Ignoring the agony in his legs, Felix stood from the bushes and approached the orderly from behind. Despite getting a rough beating from Peter, the man had eventually wrestled his way back up. With a firm hold on Peter's leg and elbow, he picked up the slight boy and threw him _hard_ against a tree, knocking the wind out of him.

Peter choked as he tumbled to the ground, wiping away the slightest bit of blood on his lip where the orderly had struck him in the face. He shot a glare at the man, beckoning him to do his worst. Before the orderly could even approach, gangly arms curled around his thick neck, squeezing it with inhuman strength. The orderly stretched his arms forward, ready to swing his elbow back and knock Felix to the ground. Felix twisted his arms forward and then jerked his neck to the side, robbing the man of the chance as a loud snap rang through the forest. He shoved the man's heavy body to the side away from Peter, standing triumphantly over his prey. Feral satisfaction was the ultimate anaesthesia to Felix's debilitating pain.

_That look again_ on Felix's face, a near-psychotic smile as Felix basked in the euphoria of combat. The weak, pathetic Felix who was forced into submission had disappeared for now. Peter's beloved lost boy had returned.

Peter leapt off the ground and nearly lunged at Felix, crushing their lips in a violent kiss, loving it when Felix took fistfuls of his hair and pulled him closer to deepen the embrace. The kiss was short-lived, however, both of them knowing that they didn't have time to celebrate. As soon as they broke away, Felix picked up the electrical prod, using the electrical arc to burn off the plastic tie holding Peter's wrists together. With his hands free, Peter tore his shirt into bandages, binding the reopened wounds on Felix's leg tightly, "Is this alright?" Peter asked, knowing that Felix must've been in an intense amount of pain. Felix nodded back quickly, teeth bared in a smile. _As if_ he wouldn't be able to take it.

Peter smirked back at him, brow quirked as he leaned in for a quick kiss. The two ran off shortly after, Peter's hand gripping Felix's wrist and pulling him along. They moved slower this time, fearing that sprinting again would agitate Felix's injuries all over again. Using their knowledge of the hunt, the two evaded their pursuers, listening to their steps when they were close and their voices when they were far.

Peter knew the adrenaline fueling Felix must've been running low. He could tell by how sluggish his movements were becoming, the way he'd clumsily trip over branches or skim the trees when he ran without Peter guiding him. Felix would always reassure him with a nod, "Just a little further," He would say, renewing his strength for just a moment before the atrophy slowly returned.

There was the telltale rumble of a storm in the sky as they walked through the trees, taking a break from running so they wouldn't wear themselves out. Peter took no mind of it, continuing on till his grip on Felix's arm anchored him to the spot. He looked to his immobile partner who stared at the sky, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Felix said, voice breaking just a bit before he took a step forward, "I was..." His excuse never came out, cut off by a sudden drop of water striking him on the shoulder and sliding down his body. Moments later, rain poured from the sky, soaking both of them completely.

Peter groaned in annoyance. He wasn't exactly pleased with making the rest of the journey completely soaked to the bone, "Damn. I guess it will wash away our tracks, right?" Peter asked, smirking just a bit, "...Felix?" Peter could feel it, the slightest tremble from where he was holding Felix's arm. His mutilated hands were twitching violently, his fingers looked like they were convulsing.

A sticky fluid suddenly spilled from Felix's mouth. He tore away from Peter, collapsing to the ground so hard that the cuts on his legs immediately reopened. He threw up all over the forest floor, vomit coming up a thick, watery broth. When he had emptied his stomach, Felix began choking on nothing, gagging at an imaginary fluid flowing down his nose and mouth.

Peter didn't understand what was going on till he saw Felix pawing at his face, scrubbing away a phantom cloth over his mouth and the icy cold water that came with it, "The rain..." He grabbed Felix by the arm, trying to lead him somewhere with cover. Felix screamed and thrashed away, curling up on himself and gripping into his hair hard enough to tear it out, "Felix!" Peter cried out, trying to wake him from his episode.

Felix screamed in terror when Peter pinned him down on the dirt by his shoulders, accidentally making him relive the worst memory of his life strapped onto a metal rack on his back as water pounded down on his face unceasingly. Freaking out, Peter released Felix immediately, watching helplessly as the boy curled up on his side and vomited again, drawing nothing but fluid from his stomach. With his adrenaline rush drained by his terror, all of the pain returned plus the awful cramping in his stomach. Felix lay in the dirt, shivering and cold as water pounded down on him from the sky forcing him to remember _everything_.

"Felix..." Peter repeated, panting his name out over and over again.

Felix couldn't hear him and as long as the rain fell, he never would. Any attempt to move him only made it worse, jarring the white noise and returning Felix into his nightmare. He draped his body over Felix, keeping as still as he could to cover him from the rain. He clutched Felix to his chest, letting his lost boy sink into his arms, trying to find something to anchor him into reality but failing every time he felt a droplet run over his face. Peter shut his eyes and the two stayed exactly where they were, the chill of rain soaking them right to the bone.

Peter gave up.

Their pursuers caught up to them eventually, drawn by Felix's screaming. They pried Peter off Felix. Immediately he fought when he saw them reaching for his beloved lost boy. He was given a brutal shock by an electrical prod for his efforts, rendering his entire body numb and useless as they dragged him off. Peter shut his eyes tightly, cursing everything in the world except Felix.

_Everything was going so well..._

Both of them were eventually returned to the facility. Still soaked to the bone, Peter and Felix were thrown onto the concrete floor of the torture chamber, arms cuffed behind their back.

Felix stared at Peter, his mind having returned to him once he was out of the rain, "I'm sorry," He gasped out, "I'm so sorry." It was his fault Peter couldn't get away and Felix would never get over that.

"Don't be," Peter replied. He wanted to be reassuring but the defeated look in his eyes countered everything he said, "This isn't your fault. We were just unlucky."

"If I didn't-"

"Felix!" Peter cut in, silencing him, "I said it's not your fault."

Felix averted his eyes, resigning himself and knowing the shame of disappointing his leader would never leave him. Peter did the same, knowing he'd never forgive himself for failing his beloved lost boy.

A shudder came from both of them as people entered the room. Judging from their hard-soled shoes, Peter knew it had to be The Coordinator and his assistants. Felix let out a cry when one of them placed a foot on the back of his head, grinding his face into the concrete floor. Another foot found itself over Peter's head, giving him the same treatment as his comrade. There was no scolding, no taunting, The Coordinator's presence spoke for itself and was far more terrifying than anything they could think of to say.

With both of them laying on their stomachs, they couldn't tell what was happening when he felt hands holding down his ankles, restraining their feet so they were pointed to the floor with their toes flat on the ground, stretching the back of their calf taut. A cold, metal object was laid on Peter's ankles, the edge of it just biting into the back of his Achilles tendon and finally, Peter understood. He shut his eyes tightly, knowing that this would _hurt_.

"No," The Coordinator's voice rang throughout the room and the metal was removed, "Just him."

Peter wasn't sure if he was relieved or horrified, robbed of the dignity of sharing Felix's pain. The restraints on his legs were removed. A tight grip in his hair jerked him back, giving him just enough leeway to kneel on the floor. His heart sank at the sight of Felix still laying on the floor, wrists purple from how hard he struggled against the cuffs, cutting off his circulation, legs restrained with what appeared to be a butcher's knife poised right above his ankles.

"No..." Peter pleaded, eyes meeting Felix's and immediately breaking down, "Punish me! It was my idea. I'm the one you want. Let him go! Please! _No, no, no, no, no_!"

The foot lifted from the back of Felix's head, letting the tortured boy swing his head back and scream till his throat burned as his ankle tendons were slashed apart.


	5. Chapter 5

_Peter couldn't remember why he was so angry. He couldn't remember why he stormed into the camp, magic blazing all around him, tearing apart the campsite with each step he took. He glared at the cowering lost boys, cursing them for their incompetence before ripping through the firepit at the center of the camp, pelting the boys with debris and dirt._

_Peter half expected the boys to sprint away in different directions, scattering into the forest where they'd be picked off one-by-one by the predators of Neverland, "Good," He choked, spiteful towards the boys for no reason he could think of. He was utterly taken aback when the boys had silently grouped together, avoiding Pan's rampage as they filed out calmly in a large group. From the direction they were heading, Peter knew they were heading to the beach, safe and open, long conquered by Felix, Rufio, and their private team._

_"Felix..." Peter hissed, realizing who must've been corralling the boys. He wanted to see panic. He wanted to see bloodshed. He wanted to sate the bloodlust inside him caused by everything and nothing._

_The moment the boys cleared out was the same moment Felix appeared, stepping out from where he had commanded the boys and into the clearing Peter had made of their camp. He didn't have his club on him or his dagger, disarming himself to show his king that he meant no harm. It would have done him no good to carry his weapons with him anyway._

_"What the hell was that?" Peter barked, stepping right into Felix's space, "Those are_ my _lost boys. Not yours. Get them back here, right now," Felix didn't comply, infuriating Peter even more, "Do it or I will tear your shadow from you and hang your body in the campsite for all the boys to see."_

_Felix said nothing. If Peter hadn't known any better, he would've thought Felix was ignoring him and he_ hated _being ignored. Unfortunately, his thinking was unstable at the moment, suffocated by rage, and he promptly lifted his fist and struck Felix across the face. There was a very audible snap when Peter's fist connected. Felix reeled back, nearly falling till Peter grasped him by the back of his cloak and tossed him across the camp. He landed inelegantly on a pile of trashed weapons, broken spears jabbing bluntly into his back._

_A single groan slipped from Felix's lips as he rolled over, trying to steady himself on his hands and knees. Peter gave him no breathing space, however, and promptly kicked Felix in the stomach. He grasped him by the collar and shoved him harshly against a tree, making sure to grind his spine against a protruding branch stump._

_"Why don't you fight back, Felix?" Peter hissed, grasping onto Felix's chin to prevent the boy from looking away. His eyes fell to Felix's arms which remained still by his sides. It only made Peter seethe when Felix ignored his orders, "You're pathetic. Do you know that? At least the boys would've done something, ran away, maybe even try to fight. But no, you don't do any of that. You stand here and take it."_

_Peter released Felix momentarily, giving him a chance to run away or strike back. Felix did neither, merely standing there with his arms at his side, completely docile. It only made Peter want to break him more. Whatever he was angry with before was no longer relevant. All he could see now was Felix. Somehow, the two had ended up on the ground. Peter was sprawled over Felix, climbing over him like an overzealous cat, "Why is that, Felix? Do you enjoy being my toy?" He slapped Felix across the face, blood pumping when he saw a scarlet mark blooming on Felix's cheek. He struck him again from the other side, backhanding him, "Did you enjoy that?" Peter mocked, striking him over and over till Felix's skin began to darken with a bruise. How Felix hadn't even lifted a finger only aggravated Pan more. So he changed tactics._

_"It's a bit disgusting, you know," Peter said. Immediately, Felix's eyes focused on him and Peter knew he'd found his pressure point, "The way you dote on me. Always standing up for me. Always the first to come when I call. Doing everything I say without hesitation. It sickens me. You sicken me," It made Peter smile when he grabbed Felix by the jaw and felt a bit of resistance. He leaned in, ears ghosting over his lips as he spoke. He could've been mistaken for a lover from the intimacy of his motions and the velvet-soft voice he spoke in if it weren't for the vile, poisonous words he whispered into Felix's ear._

_And with that, Peter could already feel his rage quelling, smothered by the satisfaction that he'd broken through Felix's barrier. Peter found himself at his Thinking Tree when his anger and bloodlust passed. He was back to his carefree, rascally self, casually rebuilding the camp with his magic as the boys slowly ushered themselves in. In hindsight, he wondered if he was too cruel to Felix. Every time he had one of his episodes, Felix would always be the one who confronted him, letting Peter take out his rage so his peaceful side could return. He reasoned that Felix was used to this which was why Peter was utterly surprised when he entered the camp and could not find Felix at all._

_The boys didn't know where he was, keeping their eyes averted in case Pan's wrath returned. Peter figured Felix must've been blowing off some steam. Perhaps their little spat had gone just a bit too far and now Felix was off having his own tantrum in the woods. Using his omnipotent magic, Peter tracked Felix down into a cave just at the edge of the beach. This was a first for Felix. In all of his life on Neverland, he'd never run off on his own without at least telling one person. Peter was eager to burst in, so very curious to see how the stoic lost boy handled his rage._

_His joy disappeared in an instant and Peter could only wish that his rage from before had as well. Silent and cloaked in the darkness with his magic, Peter peered into the cave. All alone in the shadows, hidden away from anyone's eyes, stewing in his own misery, Felix sat upon the stone floor with his knees hugged to his chest,_ sobbing hysterically into his arms _._

_This was the first time Peter had ever seen Felix cry._

_Peter knew he went too far but never did apologize. He was far too proud to despite the awful wrenching in his heart when Felix returned to camp, stoic as he always was, and greeted Pan like nothing had happened._

It had been so long. Peter had run out of happy memories to keep him going.

Peter's heart _ached_ when he awoke. It was the only thing he could feel while his mind adjusted to the world around him. The next thing he felt was the coldness of the concrete floor against his cheek. After weeks spent sleeping in the corner of the cell, the bed felt foreign to him. Peter figured he must've unconsciously rolled out of bed, yearning to be back on the safety of the floor. Peter chuckled humourlessly at himself when he thought back; sleeping in the corner gave him no more of an advantage than sleeping on the bed. If The Coordinator wished to take them out, he would do so regardless of where they slept.

Regardless, Peter rolled onto his back, laying on the floor by the bed staring up at the ceiling. He retrieved a spoon from his meal tray and turned towards the tally he was keeping on the concrete wall. He wished he had kept track of time since he first arrived. Peter no longer had any concept of how long he'd been trapped here with Felix, all the days spent resting, screaming, pleading mixing together into a mirthless haze.

Peter spent nearly a minute carving a line into the wall. As soon as he finished, he ran his fingers over the markings, counting each of them in his head. _Twenty-three. Twenty-three days since Felix stopped responding_. Peter sat up slowly, reluctant to look back at the bed where his catatonic lost boy lay.

There was no difference when Felix was asleep or awake other than his eyes being open or shut. He no longer screamed when The Coordinator dissected him, no longer cried, no longer struggled, no longer... _did_ _anything_. Peter couldn't remember what finally snapped Felix and he hated himself for forgetting.

Peter let their meals sit there for at least an hour before he started feeding Felix. Since Felix stopped responding, Peter never had the appetite to eat. He'd take a few bites just to stave off the worst of his hunger but the rest he'd leave on the tray.

Carefully, Peter sat Felix up against the wall, carefully folding his legs over the edge of the bed. His fingers skimmed the vivid, stitched-up scar on the back of his ankles and he immediately looked to Felix, searching for the slightest reaction to the touch against his tender flesh. Nothing. Resigning himself, Peter returned to Felix's side on the bed, picked up the bowl of oatmeal, and began feeding Felix. When Felix felt the spoon on the back of his tongue, he instinctively swallowed. He never chewed which The Coordinator took note of, providing only soft foods for him to eat.

Peter took Felix by the chin, using his thumb to part his lips before slipping a spoonful of food into his mouth, "Felix," Peter murmured as he fed him, "If the other lost boys saw us like this, I think they'd start making fun of us. Peter and Felix _sitting in a tree_..." His voice trailed off when a bit of oatmeal that he couldn't swallow dripped from his mouth and onto his lap. Felix made no movement to clean it up, "Don't be so messy. I'll clean you up this time," Peter remarked, taking the napkin and wiping up Felix's lap, " _You're welcome_ ," Peter said, masking his pain with a smirk. He leaned forward, licking up the oatmeal that stained his lips, nibbling just a bit on his lower lip as he brushed his fingers over Felix's left thigh. He pressed his lips against Felix's, working them with a gentleness he never thought he was capable of.

_Nothing_.

Crying out in frustration, Peter grabbed the bowl of oatmeal and hurled it at the wall, shattering it to a pieces, "Felix!" Peter barked, grabbing onto his shoulders resisting the urge to shake him or slam him into the wall. When the urge was too strong, Peter punched the wall right by Felix's head over and over until he cracked his knuckles against the concrete. He ignored the pain in his hand and returned it to Felix's shoulder, grasping onto a handful of his hospital gown, " _Say something,_ " Peter begged, burying his forehead into his neck.

His gaunt features and lifeless eyes made him look like a corpse. He carded a hand through his hair, noticing how long it had gotten. Peter traced Felix's lips, trying to imagine the lovely pink hue they once had and the softness Peter hadn't expected of a boy so rough and wild. _True Love's kiss can break any curse_. But this was no curse and worst than that, Peter wondered if what they had was really true love.

If it was true love, Peter would have sacrificed everything for Felix right from the start and Felix wouldn't be dead inside right now. If it was true love, he wouldn't have gotten Felix into trouble in the first place, sending him to The Land Without Magic armed with nothing but a club and dagger. Why hadn't he shared his magic with him? They'd spend centuries together and Peter still couldn't divulge even the _slightest_ bit of magic to his most loyal lost boy?

Peter took Felix's hand, pressing it against his forehead trying to ignore the raspy touch of unformed nails on his fingers. He growled, hating himself for letting Felix down. The Coordinator, the facility, his son, _Malcolm_ , all of that hatred washed away, replaced with a new loathing against himself and his failure to save Felix.

" _Peter Pan never fails,"_ Peter choked out spitefully. _What a joke._

When orderlies came for him, Peter purposely started a fight, lashing out every way he could, cursing them left and right just so they could beat him into submission and he could finally feel something other than disappointment. He's walked into the torture chamber, his will to struggle crushed twenty-three days ago. They brought Felix in on a wheelchair, sitting him in front of Peter who they hadn't even bothered to bind. They knew he had no strength to fight against The Coordinator and they knew he wouldn't try to escape without Felix.

There was no will to fight, not even out of fear when The Coordinator stepped out from the shadows to stand by Peter's side. There was nothing left to squeeze out of Felix and both The Coordinator and Peter knew this would likely be his last session. Peter bared his teeth without a single bit of malice in the action. It was more desperation than anything else, "What the hell do you want?" Peter hissed, "There's nothing more you can take from Felix. You ripped him open and tore out everything that made him who he was. There's nothing left to do now but..." He choked on the words but spat them out nonetheless, " _End his misery_."

The Coordinator moved behind Felix's wheelchair, pushing him forward till his knees touched Peter's, "Did you not say that he was merely for pleasure when we first brought him to you? He is still capable of fulfilling that function."

" _Fuck you_ ," Peter growled, "Just fuck you!"

"What does he mean to you, Peter Pan?" The Coordinator asked, gripping into Felix's hair and pulling him back when he had slumped over. The deadness in his grey eyes was too heartbreaking to look at.

Peter fully knew this would be the last time he'd ever speak to Felix. Both of them knew Felix was no longer leverage and The Coordinator was trying to salvage whatever he could before he disposed of him, " _I love him_ ," He hung his head shamefully, hating himself for taking so long to finally reply.

"By the indignity of your voice, this is not something you have ever said to him, is it? He spent hundreds of years at your side, yearning for you. I could tell by the way he screams your name like you are the only person in the world who matters. And yet, all those years, you have never said those words once." Peter grit his teeth, letting The Coordinator's words sink in, "You had him all along. Had him for so very long, and you wasted it. You took him for granted. You knew no matter what you did to him, he'd always be by your side, so you did _everything_ to him."

" _Shut up, just shut up_ ," Peter gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears, "What the hell do you know?" The Coordinator had no right to twist his most precious memories of Felix.

"You knew right from the start how he felt about you," The Coordinator continued, circling both of them as he spoke. His voice slipped right through Peter's hands like smoke, reaching his ears and echoing in his mind till it drove Peter mad, "But you made him feel guilty for having those feelings for you because you _liked it_. So every day, Felix had to wake up thinking that everything that made him love his leader made his leader _hate_ him."

_I was just teasing. Felix laughed it off. He enjoyed it. Didn't he?_ Peter bit down on his lip, unable to disregard The Coordinator's recollection of the very first time Felix tried to confess to him, "Didn't he?" Peter accidentally whispered.

The Coordinator swept a hand over Felix's hair, fingertips skimming his cheek before tracing Felix's lips, taking the same path Peter's fingers had, "But there were happy moments. If you had kept your distance, Felix could have let himself get over you and finally be the perfect lieutenant. But you couldn't resist," He gripped onto Felix's shoulders suddenly, jolting the body with the force of his hold, "You'd touch him. You'd please him. You'd lure him in and he'd dream of you and _ache_ for you as a teenage boy with urges would," Peter was shaking his head, begging The Coordinator not to continue, "If you had acted on your true feelings, Felix would've been so happy and he'd finally be the perfect lieutenant. But you couldn't resist manipulating him."

"I wanted him to be happy!" Peter screamed. _Felix was smiling at him. Felix was blushing. Felix was confused so he distracted himself with his work. Felix was scared silent the whole night, fearing that Peter was playing with his emotions._

He circled back over to Peter, hands tracing over his trembling shoulders, hands wrapping around his neck but not applying any force to choke him, "Have you consummated with him yet? Or was he just the lovely socket in which you relieved yourself during a heated _delirium?_ Nothing but _raw fucking_ that meant nothing to you but _everything_ to him," He pressed his lips to Peter's hair, all of his words sounding obscene as he _purred_ them into his scalp.

Peter was shaking in his grasp, his breathing coming out hoarse and quick. There was no where he could escape to. The Coordinator had pinned him to his seat with words that were burrowing into him, planting a poisonous parasite inside his body, polluting every happy memory he had of Felix. His steely voice locked up his thoughts, robbing him of the silver tongue and sharp wit he was known for. Peter couldn't even remember Felix's smiling face, seeing nothing but a broken, empty husk of a boy and the true demon king responsible for it.

"You and I are quite alike. When they brought him to me, I stripped him down to nothing and saw _everything_ you had done," The Coordinator's hand sunk onto Peter's chest, "Not just the scar on his face but the bruises, the cuts, all over his lanky form. Had they been from an attacker, Felix _wouldn't have tried to hide them._ You should have seen him, stripped down to nothing, helpless, and _all mine_. His hands trying so hard to cover up the bruises all along his body like they were _precious_."

Peter swallowed, cringing when he felt The Coordinator's fingernails against his neck. He feared swallowing again lest those nails slash his throat open.

" _Precious_ ," The Coordinator repeated, "He loved you so much, even your abuse was cherished. He forced himself to love the pain because you never stopped feeding it to him. And that's why I took him by the hair and bent him over the table," Peter stiffened at the cruel confession, letting out a strangled sound as The Coordinator pressed a kiss to Peter's temple, "Because _he_ is the _perfect specimen_. The product of centuries of _heartbreak, c_ enturies of being your pet. A boy so desperate for you that he had brainwashed himself into accepting cruelty for affection _,_ " The Coordinator took a step back but kept a hand grasped in his hair, _"_ Enslaved to your will because _you are his pressure point_ ," The Coordinator released him, moving to stand between both he and Felix, " _And they call me a monster_."

Every single one of his memories were dashed into the floor. The Coordinator did everything he could to render Peter helpless, forcing him to watch Felix's suffering over and over again till guilt overwhelmed every part of his mind. He sealed the coffin by poisoning Peter's memories, wrecking the remaining happy moments of his beloved lost boy, twisting it so _Peter_ was suddenly the villain of their story.

A strangled cry slipped from Peter's lips and before he was even aware, _Peter was crying_. He clutched at his face, sobbing uncontrollably as The Coordinator watched with a stoic expression, completely unmoved from breaking his victim. Tears ran hot down his cheeks and all Peter could think of was Felix's cheeks soaked in tears, suffering all his life and finally shutting down. He drew in a shaky, jagged breath; his head throbbed with a hot pain that left him delirious and hysteric.

All that was left was to reel Peter in while he was still vulnerable.

"Perhaps I'm wrong."

The dismissal was nearly lost in Peter's loud, heaving sobs. Scrubbing away the tears with the back of his hand, Peter stared at The Coordinator with a desperation he hadn't felt since the day his father sold him to the blacksmith. Peter wanted The Coordinator to be wrong, he _needed_ him to be. He wanted to know that he hadn't made Felix suffer, that Felix completely understood his true feelings and felt just as loved as Peter did.

"But how can we ever be sure?" The Coordinator added, "We will never be able to unless we ask him, right?" Peter growled and hung his head. The Coordinator must've been toying with him, "What if I told you I could bring Felix back?"

The sobbing ceased in mere moment. Even The Coordinator was impressed by how quickly and naively Peter responded, " _What?_ "

"We are living in a modern world where science can do everything: Therapy, drugs, treatment. We can restart his mind, reawaken him from this sleepless slumber," Peter was clinging to every word he said, "While magic has laws to limit its strength. Science is limited by resources. Wouldn't it be great if we could just imagine a resource and instantly have it in our labs?"

Peter took a shaky breath, already knowing exactly what The Coordinator was asking for. He stared at him without a single shred of his resolve remaining. All he wanted now was _his_ Felix back so he could make things right.

"Relinquish your hold on Neverland to me and I will restore Felix."

This was a horrible deal but Peter couldn't stop himself from making it. If there was even the slightest chance to bring Felix back, the slightest chance for him to know that Peter loved him more than anything else in the world, Peter had no choice but to take it. Unable to say the words aloud, Peter nodded back frantically, wiping up the last of his tears.

The Coordinator watched him with a blank face but blazing eyes, "Do it." He commanded.

"Swear to it," Peter choked out, twisting the fabric of his shirt in his hands anxiously, "Swear you will save Felix and give him a good life away from this hellhole."

The Coordinator smiled to him and spoke with no reassurance in his voice, "I swear to it," Regardless of what he could've said, The Coordinator knew Peter would take his deal.

Peter shut his eyes, images of Neverland flashing through his head as he tried to concentrate on Skull Island. He could see it already, the ominous golden glow that was easily mistaken for the sun at the edge of the horizon. His magnificent hourglass constantly reminding him of his imminent death.

To use Neverland's power, all one had to do was believe and it would happen. Peter had to believe that Neverland _was no longer his_. It was easier than he expected when he emptied everything in his mind except for his most beloved lost boy. Magic swirled around him, picking up the dirt and blowing through Felix's hair and clothes.

"Promise me one thing," Peter said, eyes still closed as he continued visualizing Skull Island being torn apart in his mind. Felix didn't want him to relinquish Neverland because he knew Peter would die the moment his ties were cut. Age would catch up to him and he'd turn into dust, blown away without a single keepsake for Felix to remember him by. Peter understood that now and it made his decision all the more easier, "Tell him I love him."

He could feel Neverland at the core of his body being ripped away like a shadow. It was agonizing and he nearly fainted but he knew he couldn't stop. This was the only way to save Felix even if the chance of The Coordinator living up to his promises were slim to none.

A gunshot shattered Peter's concentration. The magic stopped. Everything stopped. Breaking the spell robbed Peter of his strength and he collapsed to the concrete floor, the world around him spinning till he finally shut his eyes and fainted.

"Is that him? Is that Peter Pan?"

"No... I don't know who that is. But that boy on the ground, that's him. I'd recognize his face anywhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My reluctance to post up this story very likely has to do with this Deus Ex Machina. The final chapter will be up in a bit and as usual, I'll have a couple notes at the end to explain where this is coming from!


	6. Chapter 6

_It was lonely in Neverland; Peter figured that out soon enough. There was no one to talk to other than his shadow and it certainly wasn't much of a conversationalist. The children who would visit in their dreams were never lucid enough to talk to him, lost in their own imagination that came to life in Neverland. None of them were like him, like Malcolm, a boy so deep in despair that Neverland was far more vivid than reality. He could barely feel the hot coals at his skin causing blisters all over his flesh but he'd always remember the earthy smell of Neverland and the refreshing breeze of its highest peaks._

_Peter always knew exactly where everyone was on the island. He knew which children were conscious of where they were and not lost in their own fantasy. At best, they'd think he was just another figure of their dreams, confusing him for someone in their real lives. It was the closest to human interaction Pan could get until the day he met_ him.

_In the dead of night, Peter had enough of the day flying around and decided to return to his tree house. Peter kicked off his boots to the side, unbuckled his belt, and tossed his forest green topcoat off to the side before leaping into the bed. He believed himself a thin quilt, curling himself up in it as he shut his eyes and readied himself for a good night's sleep. Being the omnipotent god of Neverland, Peter didn't actually need sleep in order to function. It was merely a habit from his human life that he had yet to kick. Regardless, it helped him passed the time especially since he had the rest of eternity to spend on the island._

_Peter had just almost nodded off until he felt something prodding his cheek. Thinking it was just an insect at first, Peter grumbled and swatted it away. After a brief moment, the prodding continued, prompting Peter to roll onto his side to escape the insistent attacker. He flinched when he heard footsteps plopping around his bed to the other side. Now fully awake, Peter kept his eyes closed as the prodding against his face started once more._

_Tiny fingers grasped onto his nose, pinching at it gently. Finally curious enough, Peter opened his eyes, startling the tiny blonde boy standing in front of him, "What are you doing here?" Peter asked, voice distorted from his closed up nose._

_The boy immediately let go, nearly tripping as he ran away from Peter and hid behind the foot of the bed peeking out shyly. Peter wondered if he was imagining this. Perhaps he had finally gotten lonely enough that his mind was subconsciously creating friends for him. There was no way this boy was visiting through his dreams. He was reacting to Peter, actively seeking him out which no child in their dreams ever did. More importantly, the tree house remained un-warped by imagination. Peter had several children walk into his tree house and transform it into something completely bizarre due to their rampaging fantasies._

_The boy did nothing of the sort, staring at Peter shyly from the foot of the bed. He was tiny and thin, almost bony. Peter figured he must've lived in the streets given his dilapidated appearance. Yet, that was another inconsistency. No child ever imagined themselves unhealthy or broken. In their dreams, they'd always be in their prime but this child looked like he might fall apart if a breeze struck him._

_Both Peter and the boy were equally surprised when the boy's stomach growled. Hunger in a dream was unheard of. The boy immediately curled up on the floor, sinking completely out of view as he clutched his stomach._

_Peter climbed off the bed and knelt in front of the boy. Immediately, the small child receded, shutting his eyes and covering his head out of reflex. Showing that he meant no harm, Peter quickly conjured up a piece of cake and held it in front of the boy, "Here. For you," Peter's act was more out of curiosity towards the strange creature over actual kindness._

_The boy snatched it off his hands before Peter was even aware and wolfed it down, chocolate all over his face and fingers. It was a small slice and the boy was clearly still hungry. The boy extended his hands shyly, biting his lip nervously as he begged Peter for another slice silently. Obliging, Peter conjured up a personal favourite of his: Beef stew with cornbread. The boy took the bowl in his hands, staring at it like a Christmas present before digging into the stew with his hands and eating._

_Peter laughed at the boy's messy eating, taking the bowl from his tiny hands and conjuring a spoon, "Messy, messy," He remarked, taking a spoonful and holding it in front of the boy's lips. He snapped it up quickly, so happy at the simple act of eating a meal._

_"What's wrong?" Peter asked when the boy suddenly stopped, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Peter's eyes immediately fell to the spoonful he held, noticing the peas at the front. He laughed, dumping the peas back into the stew, "Don't like peas?" The boy stuck out his tongue in reply, making a gagging face. Flickering his fingers over the bowl, he quickly rid the stew of peas and resumed feeding the child._

_It had been so long since he had actual human contact, Peter honestly found himself enjoying the time spent with the little blonde. He didn't remind him of Rumpel who was a constant anchor in his life, dragging him down till he hadn't the strength to do anything but crawl forward. The child instead kept up with him and if Peter ran, the boy would run with him, refusing to be dead weight._

_Every night Peter would wait for the boy to come to Neverland. He'd materialize in front of him in a blaze of glowing green lights and grin when the boy dashed to his side and hugged his knees. The boy stood barely at Peter's waist which often led to games of keep-away where Peter would dangle toys away from him just to see the boy puff up with anger._

_The boy never spoke. Peter figured it was something else he carried in from reality. The boy did laugh however, voice sounding like a shower of bells as he giggled away next to Peter. Peter kept track of that laughter, noticing how it developed as he grew older, becoming slightly deeper and heartier._

_The last time he ever saw the boy was when he was about twelve years old. Since Peter had first met him, the boy had grown so quickly, just an inch or so taller than Peter. In a few years if he kept up with this pace, he'd be at least a head taller than Peter._

_The two found themselves a cave facing the water to rest. While Peter lay against the stone, eyes closed and thoroughly pleased with how their prior hunt went, the boy sat at the edge of the cave using the moonlight to guide his fingers. Curious, Peter crept over and watched as the boy weaved something in his hands._

_"What are you doing?" Peter asked, startling the boy. Immediately the boy crept away, tucking his craft under his chest. He squeaked as Peter reached an arm around him, snatching something wooden from his hands and tugging it away. Peter hummed as he examined the trinket in his hands, "A Pan flute?" Peter groaned at the silly wordplay, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately._

_He returned the trinket to the blonde boy, letting him finish the pipes with a final twist of reeds and wood. As soon as he finished, the boy presented the pan flute to Peter with a bow. Peter took it from his hands and started playing them immediately, mastering the instrument just by believing he could do it. Peter spent the night playing the pipes, a mystical melody flowing from the pipes and twisting through the air marvelling the blonde boy just as Peter always had._

_And as the sun came up and Peter finished his final song, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek absently. The boy's cheeks heated up at the contact, a desire for Peter within the depth of his eyes. Peter slipped the pipes into his tunic as he watched the boy fade back to reality with the rising sun._

_He never saw the boy again. Peter knew it was because of the kiss. He accidentally made the boy yearn for him and that made him no longer a boy. He never even learned the his name. He thought he'd have eternity before he'd ever need to part with the boy and one mistake had taken him away forever._

_There was only one thing Peter knew about the blonde. Happy children would be too content with reality to even consider that their dreams were in another world. The more desperate, lonely, and_ lost _a child was, the more likely they'd be able to realize Neverland was a real place, a real escape. This was what Peter had in mind when he enchanted his pipes. He'd search for unloved boys. He'd bring all of them to Neverland if he had to. Just so he could find_ him _again._

_Peter never did have a heartwarming reunion with the boy. He had several hundred realms to search and he knew his chances were slim to none. Somewhere along the line, he had forgotten about the boy when he started amassing more people in Neverland, distracting himself with the real interaction that had eluded him for so long._

_In hindsight, it was fairly obvious to Peter who that boy really was and he felt a bit foolish for never figuring that out._

 

A small groan slipped from Peter's lips as he woke up. The world around him was white and spinning. Peter began to wonder if he had died and this was limbo. However, as he blinked and refocused his eyes, the room slowly pieced itself together. The whiteness came from a large window to his left covered by a pastel green curtain that did little to block out the sun. The walls slowly shifted from a blinding white to a gentler shade of beige. The decor came into view, simple tables and a clock on the wall.

It took him a while before he took notice of the movement to his right. He tilted his head, immediately taking note of the soft pillow under his cheek, to look at the man standing before him. At first, Peter was frightened by the sight of the long white coat reminiscent of The Coordinator. However, with closer examination, Peter took note of his far kinder face and warmer eyes. The stethoscope and checkered blue tie was also a new feature.

"You're awake," The man said, "My name is Dr. Whale. I will be looking after you and the dozen other boys that Gold brought to me," He clicked his tongue, scratching down a note in his clipboard, "Fantastic."

 _Other boys...?_ As Peter's thoughts began to return, so did his panic. He whipped his head from side to side, searching the room and finding no one but himself and the doctor, "Felix?" He murmured, trying to sit up only to find padded cuffs on his wrists holding him down, "Felix?" He called out a bit louder.

"Excuse me?" Whale replied.

"Felix? Felix?" Peter repeated, suddenly finding himself hysterical and scared. He jerked at the cuffs, thrashing in his bed when they wouldn't break, "Where's Felix? Where did you take him!" Peter shouted at the air, "FELIX!"

Immediately nurses rushed in, restraining him along with the doctor. All it did was made him struggle harder, breathing coming out harsher and heavier, "Do we need to sedate him?" The nurse asked, just barely dodging a knee to her side when Peter found his legs unrestrained.

"No. Find Gold. Tell him Pan's awake," Whale commanded, dismissing one of the nurses from the room.

 

"But he's just a boy," Emma said, brows furrowed in disbelief.

"Do not be fooled," Hook replied, reclined in one of the seats in the waiting room, "He may look like a boy but he's a bloody demon."

Rumpel nodded to Hook, "And for once. We agree on something," Hook gave him a humbled nod, "He'll get into your mind and twist you into his thrall. Never let your guard down around him no matter what image he tries to present. He is a bloodthirsty monster."

" _Then why did you save him_?" Emma asked.

Rumpel didn't answer, turning away and hobbling to the side on his cane. He never told Emma exactly how he knew where Pan was, claiming that he used Pan's shadow and some ancient dowsing ritual. In truth, all he had to do was prick his thumb on the magic globe he had used to find his son.

"Mr. Gold?" The nurse called out from the hall, "Pan is awake."

Rumpel immediately rushed out of the room, the limp of his foot seemingly healed. Emma followed at his heels, signally Hook to stay in the waiting room. Reluctantly, Hook fell back in his seat, pouting just a bit as Emma left.

"His magic was sealed, right?" Rumpel asked.

"Yeah. Whale said that there was some sort of iron substance in him that blocked his magic," Emma explained having received a report from him while Rumpel was busy admitting all the lost boys into the hospital, "He said that until they flushed it out of his blood, he wouldn't be able to use magic."

" _Good_ ," Rumpel hissed the word, "Are you armed?"

Emma shot him an appalled look, "In a hospital?"

"Well, are you?" Rumpel tacked on.

"...Yes."

"Then good, and stop wasting time," Rumpel replied, turning around and continuing to Pan's room, "Pan is a ruthless demon and the moment you have even the slightest inkling that something is going wrong, _shoot him_."

The first thing that greeted Emma and Rumpel was the sight of Peter, unbound on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around his beloved lost boy, sobbing into his shoulder like a child half his age. Whale stood beside Felix, having brought in the catatonic boy on a wheelchair when Peter began to scream hysterically.

"...yeah, he's a _real_ ruthless demon, alright," Emma commented. Rumpel immediately shot her a cross look.

"Why is he untied?" Rumpel asked, stepping past Emma and right into Whale's space.

"He almost broke his arms trying to get off the bed when we brought 'Felix' in." Whale explained.

"Then let him break his arms!" Rumpel replied.

Whale cleared his throat, ignoring his suggestion, "They both look like they've suffered enough. This is probably good for their mental health."

Rumpel sighed heavily in response, rubbing at his forehead at the sheer incompetency of his allies, "Both of you, leave. I need to talk to Pan," He said to Whale and Emma.

"You want me to leave right after you said we should break his arms?" Emma asked sceptically.

"You can stand outside and rush in if you hear any crunching noises. I just want a private talk with Pan," Rumpel suggested, staring down Emma and Whale coldly before the two complied and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Rumpel's attention fell back on the two teenage boys, the blonde still catatonic and Peter Pan still clinging to him and sobbing, "Hello papa."

Peter's sobbing instantly ceased. He lifted his head from Felix's shoulder, eyes wet but not longer crying, all the dignity of Neverland's king returning to him, "Rumpel," He said softly.

Rumpel said nothing as he watched Pan with the coldest of glares. There was little to be said to his father. Every time they had talked after Pan had abandoned him usually ended with Peter laughing at his face and making him feel lower than dirt.

Peter bit his tongue as he watched his son standing at the bed completely immobile like a statue of a war god, glowering at him with a malicious presence. After so many years of spiting his son, Peter didn't know how to react to such a kindness. Rumpel had no reason to put himself in danger and save him. Peter knew if they were in the reverse and Rumpel was the one captured and tortured, Peter would have let him die and he wouldn't have given it a single, passing thought.

"You..." Peter choked on his words, clinging tighter to Felix when he tried to formulate a sentence, "You really came for me," The day he commanded his shadow to find Rumpel seemed like a distant dream to him, "All this time... were you really searching for me?"

Rumpel nodded back slowly, eyes narrowed with derision, "Since the day your shadow came to find me. We've all been working to try and save you."

"Why?"

Rumpel remained unmoved, not a single shred of sympathy in his face, "You wouldn't ask me for help unless you were truly desperate and it seemed wrong to leave someone to that kind of suffering," He leaned in as he spoke, voice low and malicious, "Let's make this clear. Nothing has changed between us. Understand?" Peter nodded back dumbly. His eyes fell onto Felix next. Instinctively, Peter's grip on Felix tightened, tucking the boy's head under his chin protectively, "Who is he?"

"His name is Felix," Peter replied, "He's one of my lost boys," Rumpel quirked a brow in response, mimicking Peter's trademark look. Understanding Rumpel's scepticism, Peter corrected himself, "I love him."

Rumpel shot him a look that all but said aloud ' _Colour me surprised'._ He was surprised Pan had the ability to love anyone other than himself. Had that been the truth, The Coordinator would have never been able to exploit Peter to the point of nearly giving up Neverland.

A single thought about his wretched tormentor pulled him out of Storybrooke and back into the torture chamber. Peter shuddered very noticeably, knocking Rumpel out of his stoic apathy for just a moment, " _The Coordinator_ ," Peter growled the name, "Where is he?"

"If you mean your tormentor, Emma shot him twice for good measure," Rumpel explained, "I don't know who may have escaped during the attack but you can rest easily knowing 'The Coordinator' is dead." Rumpel had only met the vile man for mere seconds and he was already disturbed by the sickening presence the man exuded. He knew he regret nothing when Emma shot the man in the chest and again in the head when he tried clawing his way to Peter, no doubt to use him as a hostage.

Peter wrapped his arms around Felix's head, cradling it gently as he nuzzled the top of his hair. He struggled to speak, the glibness of his usual self still smothered by The Coordinator's influence, "Good. I hope he suffered," His hands would never harm Felix again.

They all stewed in silence for a while. Peter's attention focused on Felix to try and distract himself from his son's presence. To realize that his son would still save him after causing the greatest tragedy in his life, Peter knew he'd never be able to make it up to him.

When Rumpel made his way to the door ready to call Emma and Whale back in, Peter spoke up, "Wait!" He shouted. Rumpel turned, the same apathetic expression on his face. Peter swallowed the pride that kept his words lodged in his throat, " _Thank you so much_ ," Rumpel's composure shattered for just a moment but he quickly reconstructed it for Pan's eyes . Rumpel instead responded with a nod, pursing his lips before turning back to the door, "Would you make a deal with me?" Peter called out once more.

Rumpel looked to him puzzled, "A deal?" Rumpel obliged but did not agree.

 _I don't have to make any deals with you._ Peter begged that this was no longer the case, "I want you to restore Felix, wake him up from this. Do whatever you can. And in return, I'll leave for Neverland and never come back."

All Rumpel could do was stare at the blonde boy in Peter's arms, utterly baffled at this revelation from his father. With such sincerity he thought never possible from his father, Rumpel couldn't find the heart to reject his request, "I'll do what I can," He only became more surprised when Peter smiled at him, eyes warm and filled with relief, "My expertise is magic so I can't promise that I'll be able to do much. Dr. Whale and Emma are best suited to deal with whatever might be ailing Felix. Is that good enough?"

"Of course," Peter replied.

Rumpel had little else to say as he exited the room. He still had much to swallow before he could fully forgive his father. He was still dealing with his own judgement, wondering if it had been right to save Pan and bring him into Storybrooke. In time, Peter knew Rumpel would return to speak with him, most likely with far more vitriol when he had fully recovered.

Peter noticed that no one had entered the room after Rumpel left. He assumed Rumpel must've asked the doctor and his companion to give him some alone time with Felix. Not doting on it, Peter's attention immediately turned back to Felix. Carefully, he hauled the lanky boy onto the bed so they could lie together. Felix was sleeping; Peter could tell this time, noticing his peaceful face and even breathing. It reminded him of how Felix used to look when he slept in his bedroll, calm and almost euphoric, _so pleased_ with his life in Neverland.

"I've been a bad friend to you," Peter said, pulling the blanket over both of them. With his mind cleared, Peter knew The Coordinator purposely tainted his memories to manipulate him. He could count a hundred memories of Felix understanding how Peter felt for him even if he never admit it directly. He could see Felix _smiling_ again. The Coordinator wasn't necessarily wrong, however. Just as he revealed to him a respect for his son that he never thought existed, The Coordinator revealed to Peter just how much Felix meant to him and how much Felix truly loved him. If the wretched man hadn't put Felix through hell, Peter may have considered thanking him.

With Felix asleep at his side, Peter wished he had his pan flute to play a gentle lullaby for him. He smirked just a bit at the memory of the _first time_ Peter played his pan flutes for Felix: The tall boy had been sitting on his log while the others boys pranced around madly, banging sticks together.

_"I can't hear it anymore," Felix said, shoulders hunched up slightly. He looked ashamed of himself for not being able to hear Pan's music._

_"Only boys who feel unloved can hear the pipe," Peter explained._

_Felix narrowed his eyes, examining the coy smile of Peter's face and knowing exactly what he was going to say, "I guess I'm not a boy then." Felix said, stealing the quip at his manhood right from Peter's mouth. He stood before Peter could retaliate, retreating into the trees to do his nightly patrol._

_Peter remained at the campfire, playing his pipes and watching the boys dance around him in a circle. He fumbled at one note, stopping the tune momentarily and watching the boys suddenly drop from dancing. Peter glanced over to where Felix had left, a perplexed look on his face, "Anymore?" Peter paid no attention to it, returning to his music to hypnotize the boys into their wild dance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, I hope I haven't traumatized you with my incredibly sadistic preferences. I also hope you enjoyed this since it wasn't quite a story as it was just a series of events. 
> 
> What could have been:
> 
>   * This was originally planned as a full-on fanfic with the majority of the focus on Rumpel and Emma over Peter and Felix. After contacting Rumpel with his Shadow, the whole Storybrooke team would work together to try and save them, facing against a giant anti-magic organization. I just couldn't get this to work because I couldn't get Rumpel's personality right and any attempt to write Snow, Charming, or Emma just had them all sound like the exact same character. So, I took the cheap way out and just wrote the parts I wanted to (Namely everything Panlix) 
>   * Dr. Whale would have been a huge part of this story. My reasoning being that since they are up against anti-magic, they recruit him as a specialist. And since he's a doctor, they figured he'd be able to sneak into the facility easily 
>   * The person kidnapped and tortured varied through several version of this story. The first one was Felix being kidnapped and experimented forcing Pan to seek Rumpel in Storybrooke to try and save him. This eventually fell through since I figure Pan probably can find allies of his own. The second version had Pan kidnapped and experimented on while Felix would be the one to seek Rumpel out since he's the only person he knows. In the end, I settled with both of them getting captured since I wanted to write their interactions with one another. 
>   * This story actually spawned from a WMG on the Once Upon a Time TVTropes page. The theory guessed that the Home Office was an anti-magic organization run by people who have been touched by magic (The Liddells, The Darlings, The Gales) and their job is to eradicate it. I wanted to take this idea and run with it since I always found the "Home Office" being just Pan's trick seemed a little bit of a waste. The story would have started differently: Greg and Tamara would've been given a huge injection of Genre Savvy and instead of dumbly teleporting themselves to Neverland to deliver Henry, they'd arrange a deal outside of Storybrooke so they can stay on their turf. Felix, Peter, and several boys would come to fetch Henry only for the Home Office to come in and take them away, with Henry just managing to escape 
>   * The coordinator's inspiration was originally Dr. Trager from Outlast. I'm not sure if I made him worse or better by switching him to Magnussen from Sherlock 
> 



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